Carrying The Fire
by carniwhore
Summary: "First time we gathered, there was nine of us holed up in an apartment living off spam and saltine crackers. Well look at us now." One of Woodbury's founding members, who has witnessed the birth of the walls to it's inevitable corruption, now must survive after the Governor's betrayal. Yet revenge can no longer be the only reason to endure... [Eventual Daryl/OC]
1. Chapter 1

**Carrying The Fire**

_"She's just a girl and she's on fire  
Hotter than a fantasy, lonely like a highway  
She's living in a world and it's on fire  
Feeling the catastrophe, but she knows she can fly away..."_

Chapter One

The Georgian forest persevered another winter and at last dripped away what remained of its frost to expose fresh foliage finally beginning to flourish amongst the woodland. The pale, withered woods with its naked branches were now brightened by thick clusters of green blossoming when the season's crisp chill settled. A wisp of air disrupted streaks of early sunlight peeking themselves through the overhead growth and dislodged the highlighted morning fog that danced in new directions like smoke amongst the treetops. The dull crunch of bones and the thud of an arrow could be heard amongst the quiet of the awakening woods as it lodged fur and flesh between the bark of a tree trunk. I watched from the forest floor as the unfortunate possum my arrow had impaled seized and cried out in either pain or surprise. All muscles clenched under its coarse fur and it released a small last breath before hanging limp against the tree it had been pinned against. My thoughts lingered on that last gasp; even though it was the cry of an animal it still sounded distinctly familiar. I felt momentarily compassionate for the life I had snuffed out so indifferently, this creature had felt pain before it died that I inflicted, but tried to justify to myself it was a life for a life.

It was the forest that went about its ways like every other year while the world around it was silenced. When all the screams and the gun fires were ceased, the bombs done being dropped, and fires extinguished all on their own, the world was left with little else to say. No one knew where to even begin putting the pieces of our existence back together after the dead _awoke_ and _devoured_ everything. All I had ever done or had established in my life didn't count for a damn thing in this extinction. The debt of student loans, car payments, rent, and credit card bills were no longer the heavy burden over my shoulder. Yet even stripped bare of all materialistic values, it now felt as if a whole weight of a world was heaved upon me. Any aspirations I had envisioned for myself a year ago felt insignificant and meaningless. My only ambitions now are to survive this path laid before me, however empty and ominous it felt. Some days I wasn't sure if I was avoiding heaven anymore, but rather just stuck in a purgatory this whole time. Was this to be mine, and all the rest of man-kind's punishment for our sins against this earth; the wars, the genocides, or all the other greed influenced transgressions against one another? If so, it was chosen that I should reap alone. I lived in seclusion for so long after I'd burned all my bridges that the tips of my fingers now pulled back on the bowstring as a response to any sound or an impulse, and my precision directly sought out the source as easily as my grasp released a nocked arrow. To endure I had to adapt. In this new way of life I relied off raw disposition. It was all too instinctual and it haunted me if I ever took the time anymore to reflect on it. Especially now as I took a moment, hating this part, before slicing through my prey's pelt with one of my smaller blades. I felt my face scrunch up sourly as I tore back the skin of its underbelly with my hands, careful not to tear any essential organs.

Using my forearm in favor of my blood-clotted hands, I brushed a few stray strands of hair and sweat from my face while pausing to lean my head back against the tree I had settled in after my morning hunt. You think I'd be used to this grotesque chore by now. The sight of a smaller torn open corpse shouldn't perturb me this much these days after almost a year of watching people stripped apart from flesh to bones by the reanimated dead. In an attempt to breathe fresher air, I pulled down the bandanna I'd tied around my face and closed my eyes to inhale a few gulps to get over the wave of nausea that had begun creeping over me. Once able to coax down the urge to hurl, I huffed out one last reluctant puff of air before pulling the black cloth back up over my nose and buried my fingers into the small cadaver. The possum's interior bled out over the branch while I pushed aside small organs and dug out its thin but long intestines to wrap around my fingers like thread until detaching it from the stomach. Grasping the rope-like organ and my small blade in one hand, I reached down to unscrew the cap of a water bottle I'd been balancing between my legs to prepare to soak and unravel the sinew. After washing off enough blood, I hung the large rodent's intestines from the tree branch I'd been perched in to drip away some of its slickness. Sighing at one down, I turned to scowl at the two other small bodies that hung from a nearby branch just above my head.

_"Just think of em as a Salisbury steak."_ I lightly chuckled along with the familiar voice I could now only hear in my memories and resigning to reach for the next squirrel carcass. Although it didn't stay long, I felt a fleeting grin tug at the corner of my lips at remembering there was a time I had to be enticed to eat the game brought back to camp. I used to watch abhorrently when rabbits and squirrels began being brought back to be skinned and cooked. It seemed another lifetime ago I was squeamish about having to indulge in the small animals when supplies of food ran low and I'd been disconcerted to see the little furry limp bodies rather than already frozen and packaged meat slabs like I'd been accustomed to. Oh how long those months of living off animals had been before the group I had once allied with were finally able to reach canned provisions.

When this plague cut the most rapidly through populated cities, I had been completely unprepared at work when Atlanta fell to the dead, centered in what they later referred to as Georgia's red zone. My boyfriend Todd, who had been outside the city and recognized the severity of what was going down, stocked up as much food and supplies he could pack from our apartment. As helpful as that had been, our groceries had only lasted a fairly short time in the beginning while holed up in a corpse infested apartment complex, all of us still trying to comprehend just what was going on. Having always been wary of Todd's collection of hand guns in our apartment when we had first moved in together, now I thought ironically how much they had saved our asses during the outbreak- for protection and a means to keep from starving. But that was in the early days of us surviving, until we found more effective methods than popping off rounds in the woods just outside the city. Thinking back on it all now, I felt regretful for all the grief I'd given Todd. We had been together five years, and even though Todd technically had no law-bound obligation to me, being neither married or having children, he had sacrificed his soul and more to see that we made it through the chaos of the diseased devouring the living. During and after. Including encouraging me to think of our favorite dish we'd order out to eat at dinner rather than charred raccoon meat.

Not wanting to distract my mood from what needed to be done for the day, I pushed my regretful memories of just how much the awakening dead had taken to the back of my mind. Once successfully gutting the rest of my catches for the day, I used the rest of my spare water to wash the blood off my hands before taking the last swig for myself. Reaching back up for my bag I'd also buckled to the branch just above me, I retrieved the thick pieces of birch I just finished sharpening into shafts yesterday with feathers I also prepared to tie on. Sheathing the knife back into my boot for a moment, I grabbed for one of the shafts and goose feathers I had come up on a few days ago to give them a final inspection. Twiddling the birch between my fingers, I tried to recall Todd's instructions again. Double checking the straightness of the shaft, I unhooked the bow I had looped my boot through and nocked it through the compound bow. I stared down the bow sight for any unevenness and after deeming it straight enough I looked back to determine its draw length against the bow string. Gathering one of the slippery flesh colored ropes now decorating the tree branches, I slipped my knife back out and cut off about half a foot length to begin the process of tying down the feathers with good old fashioned sinew for my first fletching of the day. I should keep a better eye out for glue while I'm out for supplies, I scoffed to myself, thinking how much easier my life would be if I could just douse some rope with glue than ripping out animal organs. Down to only three of the original arrows Todd had left me, I clung to every last one, regretfully having to part with quite a few embedded in the pursuing dead throughout the winter. Part of ensuring I knew how to protect myself after the initial extermination of the living, Todd had taught me multiple ways of making my own arrows when he knew mine would inevitably run out. Every morning was now assigned to making my own fletching with Spring beginning to peak. I had to make do with what was provided to me- squirrels, birdies, and bunny rabbits.

During the winter, Biters (as I'd grown accustomed to calling them from the beginning) were much more sluggishly when the Georgian snow seemed to slow their pursuit, allowing me to conserve my arrows and use Todd's sickle most of the season. Of course I had the M16A3 with ammunition I'd nabbed before departing into the frozen forest for more last resort purposes, but there's only been a handful of times I'd actually had to fire it and used the time to familiarize myself with the new melee weapon I also made sure to take with me instead. For extra protection or sentimental value, I couldn't tell you which for, but I'd be damned if I left Todd's blade in the hands of his murderers like some trophy. It was a small benefit to have winter's assistance against the undead, but a monstrous new danger when surviving in the woods. It brought back a familiar ache in my bones just remembering the biting cold I had to endure huddled in any enclosure I could scrounge for against the frigid exposure in the wilderness. I had been stuck between the choice hiding in the snow covered woods or risk being found by the dead- or living holding up in nearby cars, houses, or stores. That had been a very hard few months and I came closer to death from the cold and starvation than at the hands of Biters. But I had been determined for it not to break me.

_"You're strong, you can survive. Do you hear me? You've got to be strong."_ My thoughts shied away from the sharp prick of yearning in my chest for my former companion's strength I could've needed during those hypothermic days. But there was no humanity left for brotherhood, chivalry, or even love anymore. Todd and I had watched it deteriorate like the rot of an old oak tree; you wouldn't guess the interior could be so dead from looking at its outside appearance until it toppled on top of you.

After fashioning all my new fletchings together, I waited for them to dry in the widening gaps of sunshine beginning to overflow from the branches above as the morning's chill faded with the sunrise. I unbuckled the bag from its branch and pulled it on my lap, unzipping it to retrieve the assault rifle stashed inside. Detaching the external magazine, I reloaded the clip with new rounds and slid the 5.56's back in place. Having gotten the rifle wet multiple times in the past and unsuccessful avoiding rust, it was shit. Not a subtle weapon when surviving quietly on your own and constantly jamming. I rarely used it, finding my compound bow or the curved sword much more convenient and quiet weapons, but I still tried to keep it in the best condition I could sustain it in out of respect for its former owner. Today would be one of those days I especially needed it in tip-top shape.

Once somewhat satisfied after testing out the durability of my new arrows against a branch a few feet down and with the restocked clip, I felt ready to proceed with the tasks for the day. Grabbing Todd's oversized windbreaker hung with all my other strewn about supplies in the treetop, I slipped into its protective coverage and made sure to zip it all the way up with a soft grimace as I smoothed down the material. I packed the rifle back in my bag I'd be taking with a couple extra prestocked magazines and buckled the straps securely around me as I readied to climb down. Reaching my make-shift arrows, I ripped them loose and placed them sticking out of my bag zippered only a third of the way to allow their brothers to peek out far enough that I could reach and pull them free with ease. It wasn't a sufficient quiver, but it did the job. I continued to make my way down the tree, feeling more at ease descending from such a height than I had a few months ago now that I'd become more comfortable maneuvering in and out of these trees. Once settled with my feet back on steady ground, I led myself south. My sight continuously searched for any signs of Biters while I tried to keep track of the marks I subtly nicked on tree roots to help navigate me through these woods. I followed my engravings anxiously, the wood handle of Todd's blade knocked reassuringly against my leg and to add extra measure, the compound bow was extended down in front of me while I walked, my other arm bent up as my fingers lightly tugged up on a prepared arrow to arouse and react to any suspicious presence.

Finally, after a good hour or so hike the chiseled markings ceased. Knowing what was just a few yards up ahead now, I scanned ever so carefully across the forest floor to watch for snares I'd been establishing the last few weeks while I stepped cautiously around dangerous ground. All my experimenting with different types of traps all winter taught me to know better and tactfully mark where traps were camouflaged after almost being discovered once before. Even though I covered all wires, ropes, and sink holes carefully to keep from alerting any passing by intruders there was a living-being close by, I had dripped small droplets of paint I'd found left behind in a looted Home Depot every couple of feet to direct me in the safest path through the mine-field of just about two dozen booby-traps. So I treaded lightly while keeping in mind how idiotic it would be of me to get caught in one of my own traps, most likely to set off dozens more and ruin my almost month's worth of labor. I had set the snares and sink holes so close together purposely but it sure made it a hell of a lot harder to inspect how the traps were holding up. Checking as much as I could that the majority of branches were still taunt, stakes still embedded sufficiently, and ropes tied tight enough, I deliberated I was in the best condition as any to continue on with my plan I'd been preparing to put in motion for weeks. The sky confirmed it was already midday, causing a niggling worry to arise in my nerves that I needed to hurry before the sun set and it would be utter suicide to continue out my plan under the cover of darkness.

About a mile further south, the trees began to slowly grow wider apart as the forest began to recede. The bird calls had now ceased and left the forest clearing eerily silent with only the sound of my boots cracking over the departed leaves and twigs littered amongst the ground. No matter how softly I tried to step, every little sound made me even more paranoid of detection from some dead bastard lurking around the woods. I'd seen some of my catches mauled before I was able to collect them, and the way they'd been gnarled on showed signs that more Biters were beginning to wander even further away from cities to find a meal. _Guess the buffets ended_, I thought tersely.

As the foliage began to thin familiarly, I scouted the clutter of evidence left behind that there had once been civilization before the dead took over this shopping center before the nearest town up ahead. Pressing my back against a nearby tree, I peered around to scan for new cars or indications of any unexpected surprises that hadn't been there the day before. After having paced around the perimeter a few times to double-check and confirming the only danger was the dead, I proceeded forward. Soon even the smaller trees dispersed to almost no coverage at all, urging my pace to hasten across the exposed clearing without being spotted by dead or living eyes. Instinctively my hands reached to pull loose the hammer-like handle of the sickle looped through my belt, unsheathing it to quietly dispatch loitering Biters outside the shopping center compound. Yanking the hooked blade back out from the cheek of the last straggler Biter's face, I briefly saw its teeth dislodged from its rotted gums before it collapsed, some pelted down like hail fall against my shoes before I turned my gaze to avoid blood splatter in my eyes. As I continued to sprint to the back of one of these buildings, I dived against a dumpster outside the petite shopping center I planned to raid. I could hear the familiar groans of the dead shuffling amongst themselves just up ahead from the back alley I was preparing to duck into. Taking a few deep inhales to quiet my shuddering breaths of fearful anticipation, I peeked around the building to determine my entrance strategy. Only two Biters drifted between the building's crevice I decided to infiltrate first, but just a few more feet away I could spot several more walking amongst themselves- probably right outside the Big 5 building's entrance that I was preparing to scavenge later. As I suspected, there were too many to take on and expect to escape successfully, even considering it was a small mob.

My fingers fumbled hurriedly to unbuckle my backpack's straps from around me, slinging it up front and unzipping the center compartment to retrieve the rifle secured inside. When my hand reached to cock the semi-automatic, I noticed how severely it was shaking and just how labored my breathing had become. Closing my eyes to take a moment before I jumped out there in jitters, I inhaled a deep breath to pass through my lips and settle my constricting chest and down into my stomach. Placing one hand on my sternum and the other over my abdomen, I concentrated inhaling big enough breaths to push away the elephant weighing down on me and lift my hands up higher, taking turns making my chest hand rise then my stomach and vice-verse as I got a grip. Todd had always been good about calming me and had even picked up a few tricks to help me through my easily triggered asthma attacks. This method of visibly monitoring my breaths with my hands had been something Todd had tried and we discovered actually worked. Behind my eyelids I could see his gaze, those transcendent summer sky colored irises shinned back at me with a memorable crystal-clear assurance.

_You're Strong._ Releasing more air through my nostrils, I clenched and flexed the stiffness out of my knuckles a few times while trying to calm the rhythm of my heart, imagining my hands were Todd's to help guide me back to normalcy. _You've got to be strong._ Todd had a braveness I'd always wished for. I could recall the man I thought I'd known from the inside and out for five years step up and evolve into someone I had never known existed. I'd seen him take out Biters with a fierceness I would have never known burned inside of him and he would rarely, if ever, hesitate and his hands never shook, yet he was never blood thirsty like some of our own had become after so long. I used to try and find some empowerment from his kindling, one look into his bright sapphire's sparked a fire within me to follow him unquestionably through madness. After all this time apart, tried so desperately to keep those eyes in my memories as they were all I had left to shield my resolve from flickering away. Swallowing the rest of my apprehension, I willed myself to take just a few more seconds until I'd have to get my ass up and stop pussying out.

One. _"We gotta just keep carrying the fire."_ Two. _"What fire?"_ Three. _"The fire inside you."_

Opening my eyes, I stood up to shrug back into my bag's straps, my hands no longer shaking when I cocked back the safety. Stepping into the open of the small alley, I crept through the side-street leading to the front of the stores. Taking in another long breath that only just barely shuddered this time, I let a sense of clarity soothe over every tauten muscle beneath my skin and raised the rifle to press back against my shoulder to stare down its sight. _These were just dead mother fuckers about to be more dead._ I fired three deafening shots through the skulls of unsuspecting Biters, the first getting popped in the shoulder before I adjusted my aim to pelt it through the face and was able to dead center my next shot so I didn't have to waste any bullets on account of sloppy shooting. Brain and skull matter splattered across the cement walls to replicate the echoing of shots throughout the abandoned town. I froze along with every other Biter populated around this building complex and in one collective motion, down to the furthest wandering around the highway's on ramp into the town, mechanically turned their heads almost at once to the source of the sudden crack of sound. _All silver clouded eyes on me._ Quick to snap out of my stage fright, I flung the rifle over my shoulder by the strap as every Biter's direction began turning my way. Weak lumbering began to quicken when the realization of human flesh spread amongst the crowd.

Turning back out the way I'd came, I cleared out of the back street at full speed, but wasn't prepared to be caught so abruptly off guard when I slammed head on into a Biter that had come to investigate the disruption at the other end of the block. A startled choke escaped my lungs when the wind was knocked so sharply out of me from being smacked back so hard to the ground. Hearing before seeing, I landed right beside the rotting body I had brought down with me and scurried to roll away across the concrete when it wasted little time reaching for me with its infected fingers. There was a sickening jolt in my stomach as I noticed all the man's fingernails had been torn almost entirely off with thick shards of glass jutting out of the puss leaking lesions. Trying to keep from its dangerously diseased grasp while scrambling to get back on my feet, I gathered all my leg power to stomp its face back with my boot. Hearing the crunch of bone and cartilage crumble under my heel when its head shot back, I internally cringed but it did give me the time I needed to get up as the Biter struggled to recover and its growls just grew wilder. Taking only a second to catch my breath, I saw a small distance away where the sickle had fallen out of my belt and the rifle rolled off my shoulder across the pavement when I fell. I ran to retrieve the curved steel first, whirling back around to slash the blade across the head and pierced it deep enough through brain to silence the feral corpse's snarling. But it was short lived as I heard another guttural growl closer than I should behind me. Out of my peripheral view, I could glimpse there was one more closing the distance to me fast and with my blade still firmly embedded halfway through the Biter's skull I wouldn't dislodge it in time. Resorting to reach for my fletchings behind me, I spun back around on my heels and staked the arrow through the eye of the decayed trying to come up behind me. So deteriorated already from previous gashes bitten from its face, the skull practically cracked horizontally in half with the force of the stab and from being so rotted, the top of its skull fell on my boots like a cracked eggshell. This analogy didn't help coax my gag reflex, I thought even behind the bandanna I kept tied under my eyes while trying to bat away the pieces of skull off my shoes and coughing back the urge to heave. Tearing out both sickle and arrow, I turned back towards my exit to swing the arched blade as if I was some ball player, a trick I'd picked up while watching Todd hurl this steel around like a baseball bat, and lopped off two more heads of those blocking my path to retreat.

The decapitation of steel slicing through vertebrae was definitely something to admire, but tiresome none-the-less. Eventually I made it to the clearing before I could be cluttered amongst too many Biters and was able to outrun them back into the coverage of the treeline, stopping only to see the pace of the small horde following after me. All these reanimated cadavers shared one mindless desire, and like ants I watched as all rotting carcasses alike trickle through the crevices of buildings to chase the trail of my living scent. In my brief pause I soothed my breaths back down and observed the oncoming dead, their ravenous snarls and moans were successfully following me into the forest.

"So far so good," I muttered. Springing back into a run, I kept my pace deliberately just enough ahead of the shopping center Biters to ensure they followed my planned direction. In all my adrenaline, I reminded myself to keep my sights continuously scanning over all my surroundings incase any forest wanderers were attracted to my gun shots as well. Once I put enough distance between us I sheathed my blade and I swung my bow that had stayed secured around my back and proceeded to choose an arrow amongst its brothers. There were too many beginning to clutter together so I had to take the time to stop again and dwindle down some of the front ranks.

"See you later," I assured my fletching as I nocked the shaft and pulled back on the bow string to the end of my grin. Aligning my arrow with my sight, I picked out the faster of the Biters leading the charge. Inhaling, my eyes focused on the tip of the bolt and aiming it straight for this man's forehead. Exhaling, I released the arrow to impale through my target's skull, his body rocked back from the force of the puncture at such speed. Proficiently I released about five more fletchings through my conquest of emaciated dead, but eventually was interrupted from my shooting to put more distance between us again. Only running a few more yards further, I resumed to reload my bow and serve seven more arrows through the rotting heads of my pursuers. Of course, I did suffer a few throw away shots, some arrows grazing just slightly past a temple or fell short to impale the throat or side of a neck instead. Each loss made me wince in frustration, I still had a ways to go and could not afford to waste any fletchings with this plan of mine only half finished. Finally, after another mile of dwindling the number of Biters amongst the trees with my pattern of stops and runs, I spotted my paint. Sprinted after the direction of the little orange dribbles along the dirt and leaves, I left the dead behind to give myself enough time to prepare. Once my markings came to an end, I nocked another arrow and squinted my eyes a little extra to aim at the distant Biters until settling for a suitable target. I gradually picked off the front line of carnivorous dead, prolonging their progression towards me with every arrow I sent flying through the trees. Eventually, my arrows begun to run fewer and I had to lay off how many I sent out, letting the Biter's completely breach the clearing of traps in my self-made no-man's land.

The first Biter to get caught successfully stepped right into the ditch I had disguised with a thick cover of leaves. This poor devil's foot disappeared down the pit where the sharpened stakes I embedded into the sides in the dirt hole stabbed through his now immobilized leg. Another knocked into a tied down branch of a young sapling as she staggered through, snapping her back when the cord around the bent back tree tightened instantly around her decomposing ankle. Blood spurted out of the pale sea-green complexion of deteriorating skin while the Biter mindlessly pulled against the wire, the cord fastening the more it struggled to free itself even with its flesh was being sliced through. Proceeding to diminish those that seemed to miss or step past the snares and stakes, I looked on as the pack of shopping center Biters were slowly beginning to either find their end at my arrows or caught and ceased in my traps. When all my snares seemed to be triggered and most of my fletchings gone, I hitched the bow back around my shoulder to unhook the blade at my hip back out. Unsheathing the curve of steel, I held the sickle extended out at my side while re-evaluating my surroundings to determine my best approach before running head on towards the remaining hungry. Balls all out.

With a firm grip on the handle of Todd's sickle, I swung the blade forward through the thicket of traps. I had no delusions I could take down the rest of this mob, but could still silence the snared Biters as I ran through the already fallen corpses to retrieve my arrows. I ducked and weaved through grabbing hands, but remembered my manners and introduced them to my hook of steel. One huge Biter who I had noticed at the head of the pack earlier had completely ripped free of his decaying ligaments and detached his ankle that severed against the wire holding down his foot while another wildly thrashed to pull itself up out of the hole its whole leg fell through. Even though my death ditches must have had at least several sharpened stakes impaled in to each of the Biter's leg when it fell through the staged brush, but I could still witness from my peripheral vision one tearing its way hideously out of the deep ditch. However, I had to whirl around as a Biter attempted to run up on me, its teeth already snapping towards the back of my neck. Swinging my blade again through air, I squinted my eyes shut as I could feel blood splatter across my face as if someone had flicked a freshly dipped paintbrush. Opening them, I witnessed the top of the Biter's head I had chopped diagonally off slide down from its blood slickened bottom half and slide down on the grass to soon be followed by its remains. Another was still running forward and was just as quickly sliced down when I brought my aim higher this time to completely cut the steel clean across the skull. Whoever this person had once been, had the whole top of their head and hair scalped clean off as if I intended an Apache assassination. The energy of swinging the sickle around was beginning to catch up with me, and despite being exhausted, my heart pounded faster in my ears at seeing a group of three more coming only a few paces away. I wasn't going to be able to carry on like this for much longer. Decapitating another nearby corpse, I turned to the next and stabbed my blade down to hook it through the brain. Before the body could fall, I shoved forward with it still embedded in the sickle like a shield into the fray of oncoming Biters, grunting as I used all my strength to push them back with the force of kicking the dead Biter's body off my blade. Taking the opportunity while they hurried to pick themselves up off the ground from under my Biter shield, I turned to hack the sickle down and dismembered the next closest Biter's arms from the shoulders down while dodging its teeth, then sliced across its throat. Blood gushed out as I slit the long laceration through its jugular and reluctantly allowed it to spurt over on me. Not yet finished, I raked the steel across its stomach and watched more blood pour out with spilt internal organs. I remained still for a few moments while the corpse spluttered but still tried to snap for my flesh, but it was rendered harmless enough once I jammed the curve up under its chin to cleave its head almost in half. Rotten Biter blood smelt horrendously rank, but I allowed the bleeding torso to splatter all over my clothing while I shakily held it up under my hook to allow it to soak me properly.

When drenched sufficiently enough, I jerked the blade back out and allowed the bleeding corpse to finally fall from me. Once dispatching the rest of the recovering Biters I'd kicked down previously, I turned to survey if my escape was still clear. I wasn't given much time to catch my bearings before I felt my head snap backwards when a reckoning weight dropped down on the back of my scalp. Taken so suddenly off guard, my feet felt pulled out from under me as I fell back across the dirt floor while I realized my hair was being continuously yanked on. There was a rabid growl close enough to my head that its breath blew against stray strands of hair across my forehead, I was too afraid a decayed mouth would be my last sight if I looked back. Unable to keep from crying out, I tried pulling myself from its grasp but it just continued to claw its way up my braid that had come unwrapped from the bun I'd pinned it in earlier, not allowing for any escape. I realized it was the Biter who had been dislodging itself from the sink hole when I caught a glimpsed its right leg that was now reduced to ribbons of tendons, ligaments, flesh and torn apart bones, its foot all the way up past its knee no longer even existent as it must've crawled its way to me while I'd been distracted. A memory of my once beloved long hair I used to comb, curl, straighten, and had grown out for almost three years flashed across my mind; the way Todd used to comb his fingers through the dark strands after making love, stroking his fingertips down my bare back while we curled against one another. It was another sharp tug on my scalp that snapped me back to the present and without another thought, I bent my knee up so I could reach for my knife stored in my boot to lash out and relieve the weight pulling down on my head. Too spooked to stay any longer, I didn't bother to finish off the upset Biter as I all but sprung up from the ground and ran as fast as my legs would physically allow me, the weight on the back of my head feeling unfamiliarly light.

My boots pelted across the forest floor and my arms pumped up and down at my sides, any thoughts of trying to disguise my trail seemed unimportant during this escape. Looking over my shoulder, I saw I was successfully putting a sufficient distance between the remaining Biters but panic nagged me to run further north. Maybe after about a half a mile's worth of running, I finally got a grip of myself. Spotting a good space of thick enough trees, I jumped up to wrap my arms and legs around a tree trunk, digging my boots into the bark to stabilize myself. My hands and thighs shook violently from exhaustion as I clung to the trunk, clenching my teeth as I dug up whatever remaining strength I had in me to pull my weight up. It was anything but subtle as I felt my boots scrape off huge amounts of bark as I all but clawed my way up the tree trunk until I could finally latch onto a sturdy enough branch to pull myself completely up. Once perched up above on the tree's first limb, it was easier to keep pulling myself up with branches spread closer together the higher I climbed. Picking a branch high enough and with a fair amount of leaves growing to cover my existence amongst the treetop, I pushed my body up against the trunk and flattened myself against the bark as much as possible. It was proving extremely difficult to get my breathing under control now that I was stopped long enough to notice and it was like trying to hush gasping, most likely caused from panic just as much as exertion. Beast-like snarls and groans could be heard passing beneath me, but I just closed my eyes with my head rested against the trunk of the tree I was sitting against and tried to concentrate on taking long steadier breaths.

_Breathe Olive, breathe. Just fucken look at me and breathe, baby._

I silently sobbed while leaning back my weary head, utterly spent as I listened to the memory of Todd's voice soothe me while I waited for Biters to pass the tree. Everything had happened so fast, but it was not like I hadn't expected everything that had came at me this afternoon. I couldn't help but let my lips silently part as I restrained my weeping with only shaking shoulders to indicate I was sobbing. Drenched in Biter blood, I undetected as the dead shuffled passed my refuge, still trying to pursue the scent of living flesh.

* * *

About an hour later, it seemed south of the forest was for the most part cleared of Biters. Having set them loose on the north, I thought of all the already dead squirrels, rabbits, and possums that I'd sacrificed to bide me more time were probably being engorged by now. Having rested enough to go through with the rest of what I'd planned to accomplish for the day, I eased down from the tree I'd sought coverage in and relocated myself back to the exposed forest floor. It amused me to recognize how comfortable I'd become up in the height of a tree; I lived more like a jungle cat the more nights I slept up in the treetops, ate and carried food up amongst the cover of leaves, and even used the branches to hold my supplies. I hurried to return back to the shopping center before the Biters wandered back to their familiar place of existence, they would only search for my living scent for so long before realizing it was gone if they weren't distracted to move on to something else. Keeping my bow in hand as I ran back to the buildings, I readied to take out any remaining Biters and was determined to survive this pain in the ass supply run. Again I ran through the side-alley I had used earlier to catch the nearby dead's attention, scanning my surroundings with my bow and a recovered arrow from earlier ready to pull back the pulleys to serve any targets. All sounded quiet as I slunk through the alley, my middle and index fingers lightly drawing up on the bow string as I approached the end of the block to get a better look at the center of gathered stores. What my focus was mainly trained on was the Big 5 outlet I made sure to locate myself next to- it was the only store likely to still have ammunition, maybe even new arrows for my bow, or hopefully clothes for when I would be in need of new ones soon.

Only seeing a hand full of left behind Biters, I wasted little time disposing of them while still keeping myself hidden behind the remaining building at the end of the alley. Some were just amputee Biters that hadn't left because they couldn't, but remembering the last corpse that had crawled after me, I didn't spare them any arrows through the brain. After knocking off the few weak emaciated Biters, I walked out from behind the building to quickly retrieve my arrows before jogging towards my destination, keeping one to nock in the bow as I anticipated a few more stragglers and shoved the rest back into the half zippered bag. I beelined it as quietly as my knock off Doc Martens's would allow towards the store's doors. From my previous visits, I knew the electricity had been cut off to disable what used to be automatic slide doors, yet there were no longer any first set of doors but broken glass everywhere I stepped around the entrance of the store. Wiggling my fingers between the second pair of doors still intact, I spread them apart enough to slide my body through before pushing it back shut behind me. There was even more glass to step over as it seemed people had previously broken open display cases all over while probably ransacking the store when the epidemic began to occur. I cringed every time my boots cracked over broken shards of glass sprinkled across the carpet, worrying me attracting any remaining Biters hidden in the aisles. I winced every time I faintly felt a shard imbed under my heel, concerned for the state of my boots lasting through spring after pulling out all these pieces of glass later from my luckily thick soles. When past the initial entrance, I scanned the aisles that surprisingly only harbored two undead that were so flesh-starved they could barely pick themselves up and only reach longingly for me. People infected and probably locked themselves in to escape from the outside I guessed, little to know they'd be locking themselves in permanently. Sparing them any more starvation, I lopped off their heads with two flourishing swings of my sickle and stomped down on their still chattering heads with one of my glass embedded boots.

Looking throughout the store, I wasted little time in looking through Big 5's hunting section. To my disappointment but not surprised, all ammunition from the displays were stripped bare, as well as the wall that should've held up several models of guns for purchase. Slinking through the back door behind the counters leading to the store's inventory, I wasted little time checking if the stockroom was clear before ripping into sealed boxes to examine what supplies hadn't been looted at the start of the outbreak. I only found a few things even worth taking up space in my bag among the storage of miscellaneous sport products, like a few water containers, packs of gloves, binoculars, a box of microwaveable mini popcorns, and box matches. There was at least a few bricks left of rounds but only one with calibers I could actually use in my rifle, I decided to take them all anyways in case I ever came across another gun I could use them for in the future. I made my way back to the sale's floor, making sure to keep an eye out on several bodies laid around the racks, most were chewed bare by now and left only skeletons with rotten tattered faces. I assumed these had once been people just as panicked as I had been when the deceased began preying upon all living population- everyone had scrambled crazily for any means of survival. Many of the living were taken out in the first days of the worldwide genocide, and those who remained were left to loiter off what was left behind. Ignoring my sympathy, I tried to remember that this was a different world now. Fuck you nausea, get over it.

A few energy bars, some hydration gums, AAA batteries, some cracker jack's and snickers were about the most I found strewn about the aisles as I continued through the store. This place had been picked _clean_. There were still a few small tents left on the shelves, unzipping the bags I discarded the tarps and collected the tension rods that could prove for sturdy fletching shafts. A lot of clothing still seemed to hang off the racks I noticed while scanning briefly through the hangers, snatching a few sweat pants, a men's jacket still hanging, and as many t-shirts I could stuff in my bag before engorging it. However, still hanging off a shelf was a black bag I couldn't help but admire for its ginormity. Jumping and swiping it off its display hook; I ripped out the cardboard linings and balled it together as tightly as possible to add to my collection of randomness. Not spotting anything else essential to take, I ripped off the remaining shirts and bathing suits left off the racks and hangers that I deemed useless in frustration. This whole supply run had been for a few granola bars and some fucking clothes. I had to conceal my disappointed temper- I'd have time to vent later. Doing a double-check of the store, I was going to accept there was nothing else left to scavenge off in this Big 5 when I came across a corpse smashed through one of the display cases towards the back of the store. The center of its face was completely concaved in by someone most likely having bashed its head through the glass case people had picked bear. It was just another rotting carcass, its blood already dried and stenching up the store, nothing of the unusual until my gaze caught a utility belt still hanging from its waist. To my discovery, whoever this person had been seemed to have gotten a hold of a few hand grenades and from the look of their clothing, there were no indications this person was even military. Not a very accurate way of dispatching Biters, but I decided why the hell not and crouched down to unclasp the belt from around the deceased's body. Buckling it around my hips to rest with my sickle, it made me a little uneasy at the small explosives attached so closely but I had to conserve as much room in my bag as I could. What difference would an explosion be on my waist or over my back anyways?

Other than coming up on the grenades, I had no luck finding much more supplies here and regrettably determined this was as much as I'd be able to strip from this store. I slipped back outside the doors as quietly as I'd came. Having only spent maybe a half hour looking through the desolate store, I still had a lot more time to kill than I had anticipated. I looked up to the only remaining store that could have anything useful still. With only a Vietnamese restaurant, a vintage now-almost-completely-broken-pottery boutique, and a deserted barber shop with all its windows already bashed in; the Babies Forever outlet seemed to be the only store of value at this point. I had disregarded this store, choosing to almost ignore it in favor for the Big 5 I had convinced myself this whole time would have much more essential supplies and assumed I wasn't going to have enough time to look through the infant's store after having to carry back all the provisions I would've gathered from the sporting goods store. Sighing, I chewed on my lip before I made up my mind that I better hurry if I was going to go through with it. As I begun to make my way for the store, about a quarter of the way there, a rumbling of an engine echoed from the highway. Without turning around to look, I instead leapt into the nearest store's side alley to hide and only allowed myself to freeze in fright once I was concealed from sight. I heard more rumbling from the highway getting closer, recognizing what I knew to be the sound of multiple cars traveling together. Sure enough, I could hear several vehicles pull off the road and into the shopping center's parking lot disconnected only right off the highway. Always having been wary of the disadvantage the shopping complex brought being so close to the off ramp, it pissed me off this situation was actually happening. Cursing under my breath, I looked down briefly and glimpsed my hands grasping my bow so tightly my knuckles were turning white with the lack of circulation. Willing myself to loosen my grip, I felt my mind spinning a mile per second gathering what I was going to do to get out of this one. There was no way I could expose myself, especially not knowing- or _knowing_ who these people could be. I kept my back pressed against the building, willing my breaths to remain quiet while I listened to car doors opening and closing. They were obvious in their footsteps, unafraid of being detected almost.

"Well, well, _wellllll_ boys!"

Feeling my stomach plummet like a disconnected elevator, I lightly thanked the back of my head against the wall I'd been leaning against in exasperation at my luck. Recognizing that voice anywhere, it was exactly who I had feared it was. Slowly I peeked around the corner of the building to see the group of trucks and SUV's parked not far from the men having arrived in them. Sure enough, at the head of the pack that I might as well have called wolves, the tall one-handed man of my nightmares stood observing my handiwork.

"Lookie here, Brownie." Taking notice to the other men brought along, I caught the familiar naturally tanned face of my old friend, holding his MP-5 at the ready while surveying over the left behind bodies of Biters he'd been called over to. I remembered a time Todd and I would have stood right beside the Salvadorian, our own arrows ready to back up his bullets. I continued to watch both men bend down to inspect the Biter I'd taken down earlier with one of my arrows still embedded through its head. Caesar took his backwards baseball cap off to run his hand across his head before putting it back on, a nervous tendency I knew of his, and felt an old tug at my heart for the friendship we used to share as I saw his troubled expression staring around the stores. It was immediately stifled when the blade-for-an-arm white trash pulled my arrow out of its head with his good hand and flicked it clean of brain matter before bringing it up to inspect, elicited a long obnoxious whistle.

"Looks like Todd's arrows if I ever seen em'." I whipped my head back from looking behind the alley and berated myself for not grabbing all my arrows out of the bodies I took out on the way inside the store. Christ, they knew I'd been here. Hearing the laughter he didn't bother to keep quiet, I bit the inside of my cheek to try and settle the broiling hate threatening to overflow from the center of my chest to the tips of my fingers already reaching for another arrow over my shoulder.

"Sure 'bout that? Any foo coulda' been out here shootin' up shit Merle," I could overhear Caesar inquire.

"Naaaahh, this here's our good Ol' Olive usin' her old man's shit- or tryin' to is more like it." My arrow was the worst thing Merle could have noticed, knowing very well he'd been on plenty of hunting trips and constructed just as many fletching with Todd to know who was around to leave it behind.

"I gotta hand it to ya' girlie," I could hear Merle call loudly, clearly seeing how fresh these kills were to know I was still in the vicinity. "With Popeye gone, you been lastin' longer than I gave ya' credit for."

There was the familiar squelch and pop of skulls and brains being impaled with a certain blade I suspected stabbing through heads as I heard footsteps on the pavement of the men beginning to scout around for me. Inch by silent inch, I began stepping backwards to prepare to try and make it back to the woods- it was my best shot.

"Gettin' sloppy though!" The more Merle taunted, the more I longed to confront the murderer like I had originally planned before there were other complications to live for. "Or desperation just makin' ya pick up on bad habits?"

As I made it to the end of the alley, I peeked out first to see if it was clear enough to make a run for it. There was one in the back patrolling my side of the building complex, taking turns to look around each crevice with his own kind of rifle clutched in his hands. Only a few blocks away, I didn't have long before he found me. But the closer he got the more I realized how young he was. Only a boy, probably barely in his twenties, shaking with the weight of the gun in his hands and fear that reflected pretty obviously as he walked unsure of himself. My conscious hitched within my chest at what I knew I was going to have to do. There was no way he wouldn't see me if I made a run for it and would have plenty of time to take a shot at me before I made it back to the forest. I could either take care of the kid or face Merle and the men discovering me on the other end of the alley. My attention was then drawn down to the five small grenades I had come up on earlier strapped around me. I had a lot to be running with as it was, _might as well lose some of the baggage_.

When I stepped out from behind the alley, the kid's attention was drawn a lot faster than I expected and caught me off guard with the loud shots fired from his rifle. In the time it took me to realize he had aimed unfortunately, my arrow had risen just as swiftly to fire off my own shot dead accurately, putting a halt to any debate. The shaft pierced directly through the boy's eye socket, ending his life very abruptly but I didn't wait to see the body fall before I bolting back to the forest. I know I heard shouting and shots being fired, but when I unclipped and yanked the pin out from one of the grenades to throw behind me, all sound was practically muted from the ringing in my ears. Even though it felt like my ear drums were throwing off all equilibrium from the continuous buzzing, I threw two more as far as I could over my shoulder while still running to make a break for the trees. I could faintly distinguish their machine guns firing and see the tree's bark go flying in splinters as bullets pelted the treeline, but I just kept sprinting. _I always told them fully automatics were shit_.

I don't know how long I ran, the piercing ring eventually eased and I could finally try to distinguish where I was running. Suspicious of why I hadn't run far enough into the Biter's I had driven north until I heard a scream instead of shouts. "_Fuck_- Biters!" I heard someone call out. But I just continued to flee until my legs threatened to buckle from under me and my sides began pinching so tightly I could barely limp. Having zig-zagged around the whole goddamn forest it felt, I could still hear the group but now accompanied with the guttural growls of the dead swarming to the explosions like bees returning to the hive.

Merle was a country man, but I knew he was no where near as skilled at tracking as Todd- and he'd been a good teacher. Taking what chances I had, I halted in my tracks, turning to the nearest tree and I scraped my fingers and nails across the already loose bark like some kind of wild beast leaving its mark, kicking and scuffing at a few more surrounding trunks with my boots. Satisfied it was enough to question if someone had climbed up the torn up trees, I scurried to back track over my imprints across the dirt floor quickly but as accurately as I could position my feet. My head whirled back and forth looking for the hunters after my blood, living and dead, like the cornered animal I was becoming until settling on a tree I deemed thick enough to support me. Hastily I untied my boot laces as fast as my fingers could pull free the knots and kicked them off to throw in my bag, not bothering with such little time to zip it completely closed. In only socks, I heaved my way up the tree's trunk, trying to be light enough on my toes by using most of my upper body strength to pull up and keep from dislodging the bark. It unnerved me to climb higher than I usually ventured, aware that if any mishap caused me to fall I would tumble to my death or wish I had with the severity of the injuries I would sustain from being at this height. There was one branch I spotted a few more yards up above that extended out enough to intersect with another tree's cluster of branches. With only a moment to consider by options, I could hear Merle's voice beginning to sound closer. Fuck it, I went for it. Not wasting any more time, I continued to haul myself up while still trying to dislodge as little evidence that could be found from the forest floor. My shoulders shook tiredly as they endured the brunt of my weight added with the exhaustion I was already suffering from while I heaved my body up enough to wrap my knees around the next branch. Eventually, I flipped myself over onto the bridge-like branch and sighed as my arms and shoulders ached and begged to rest. I pushed myself up on my feet and ignored the shake of my legs in need to stop, using the trunk of the tree for support to keep from staggering over. It felt like I was kept functioning on pure adrenaline at this point as I absorbed everything from an almost out-of-body, disconnected state. My neck felt like it was a badly rusted hinge as it was difficult to just jerk my gaze around to decide how I was going to cross the long extension of tree. Practically holding my breath so it wouldn't shake me right off this branch, I crouched low with both arms extended at my sides as I began to step forward. My first few paces tettered as I tried to get a feel for balancing myself with a heavy bag full of supplies too. I willed my body to relax while my toes clung to the birch through my socks, my balance settled and I was able to walk with a bit more speed. I didn't pay attention to my progress but stayed completely concentrated on keeping my balance until I began to feel the strength of the branch thinning as I reached close enough to its end.

If I wasn't so affrighted I would have sobbed at realizing I was going to have to jump further than anticipated to reach the closest branch. It's either this or to the wolves, I thought to goad myself on. _You've got to be strong._ My knees bent as my calves prepared themselves, my fingers even digging into the branch I steadied myself on before propelling myself forward. Just reaching high enough my arms caught the branch, but as I struggled to pull my legs up, a part of the exterior bark my hand had gripped over was loose and ripped right off the branch. My legs fell back when I scrambled to grab a better hold of the tree, all my weight relying on my one arm before I could grab back on with both. The branch was being shaken around from my struggling, causing leaves and more loose bark to fall from the tree, but all I could feel was the stinging in my hands as they were beyond scratched and scraped from my clinging. It felt as though my temples were about to protrude completely through my head at how hard my teeth were clenched together while I quickly tried to recover and pull myself up. Once I was finally face down on my new tree's branch, I had to think of Merle possibly finding my scuffle of torn apart birch to get me up and looking for the next tree's entry way.

Like a goddamn monkey, I jumped tree to tree, putting as much distance away from where my last tracks would be. _Get away. Get away. Get away_. It was the only mantra of thoughts drumming through my head as I remained numb to the scratches I'd received along my neck and face while tumbling through the treetop's bramble. Blood was everywhere; on my hands, in my fingernails, stained to my pants, and clumped in my hair. I could even feel it dried to my face as it cracked along the creases of my skin. There was no telling which could be mine or Biter blood. It wasn't until there were no longer any thick enough nearby trees did I stop climbing. Curling myself against the tree trunk I had settled in, I was too afraid to look down. Too scared at seeing how high I'd gone or any of the men looking right back up at me. More gun fire rung out through the woods and shouting startled me in my hiding spot.

"...I outta smash yer goddamn teeth in for wastin' bullets like that!" I distinctly heard Merle holler in the distance.

"She killed him! That bitch killed Chris-"

"I don't giva' shit 'bout your worthless spic brother," he all but roared over someone sounding like they were sobbing.

"Merle! We gotta go!"

"Now cus of that shit stunt, you gun' let that bitch who kill ya' kin get away." I knew Merle's infuriation was not for avenging this boy's brother and I could feel him seethe irascibly the more I was able to escape capture.

"How long ya gun keep this up Olive-oil?" Merle called louder this time to mock, probably trying to provoke a rise out of me and reveal myself. "Gun' pick off all us one by one?"

Biter groans could be heard approaching closer, but that didn't seem to effect Merle's rant.

"I'm shakin' in mah boots of them lil sticks and string ya' got set up," he all but cackled hysterically. "After everythan', you know that ain't how you gun' kill Ol' Merle now. C'mon, not gunna try'ta make me walk the plank with cap's hook I know ya' got?"

I would've loved more than anything to go toe-to-toe with Merle's attached blade and Todd's sickle, to amputate that ugly motherfucker's whole arm this time. But I had to do my part and stay silent amongst the treetops.

"Cus I know ya' haven' started missin' that puffer a' yours yet?" Remaining motionless, I knew his jibes were just a distraction while he searched me out. Then Merle added with intentional spite, "Don' got Todd ta' nurse ya through them breathin' episodes of yours no more. Or anymore lil' girls to throw in fronta' ya-"

"Shut the fuck up, man! Merle we gotta bounce," it was Caesar this time, thankful for his somewhat better judgment in the resource team.

"You just take my word on this bitch. I'ma burn this whole damn forest down, and if that lil' cunt a' your's ain't burnt up by the time I find ya, you bes' believe this here sharp hand a' mine'll be shoved up it." I grimaced at Merle's vulgarity, recognizing his amusement of our chase was gone.

Finally I could hear the group retreat from the woods, no more gunshots as I'd imagine they were trying to avoid attracting any more pack of Biters. Releasing my breath I hadn't even realized I'd been holding, my body sagged in relief at eluding the living. Yet again. Now I remained silent while the hoard of Biters passed through, shaking the tree every now and again from knocking into the trunk as they limped by, some stopping briefly enough to sniff suspiciously but I was high enough to be well out of Biter sight, so none ever lingered too long.

The other bags were stored up one of my marked trees just west of the shopping center, having emptied out the one I'd taken with me to stuff with supplies for the run. Safe and out of sight, but useless to me here as it seemed I'd be stranded for the rest of the night by the looks of the sky already darkening. Eventually I started looking through my bag and pulled out a couple of energy bars I'd picked up from the store, my fingers trembled so tiredly I had to struggle to just tear open the wrapping. Sighing from the sensations of feeling sugar replenish my body as I bit off a generous chunk, the granola cherry flavor never tasted more nourishing and I had to refrain from scarfing down the whole bar in seconds. After the first, I wasted no time in ripping open the other granola wrapping and moved on to my second. While I concentrated on eating this one slower, I thought how I couldn't allow this starvation to continue. I sacrificed arrows, risked being eaten by the dead and captured by the living. And most importantly, I had spent a tremendous amount of my strength on the supply run that I'd barely salvaged much from, I thought when the adrenaline wore off and I began to feel the full wave of exhaustion take over my body. I could have cost myself dearly for a little more than nothing. There was a time I would have embraced the possibility of death, just as long as I took as many dead bastards as I could down with me. Now there was a last little life-force keeping me rooted to continue my struggle for survival.

If it was my subconscious or if it was God gently reminding me, I'll never know, but something brought my hand to rest over my stomach. After months in denial, I could no longer ignore the protruding evidence of my growing abdomen tightening my waistbands or the sudden hypersensitive nausea I'd become wracked with. I have five more months to spend preparing myself for this accidental life that was thrust upon me into this barbaric world with nothing but humanity's monstrosities to engulf anything else left behind. And I had no fucking idea how I was going to survive this pregnancy. Despite bringing down a whole new level of hardships I would now expect to face during these months, this _being_ was the last bit of fire that flickered within me. _We gotta just keep carrying the fire._

Back when Todd was alive, he had this inferno in his eyes that I learnt a new strength from. When times had been the hardest running, starving, and dying, it was impossible to cope while constantly escaping what seemed were imminent deaths became pointless to me after so long. We were living day-to-day on gambles and chances just to watch our lives ripped apart at the drop of a pen, to just rebuild ourselves from scratch time and again, from the destruction those dead and still alive brought upon us. The last of my resolve had just about smothered out, but Todd refused to let me concede and was revolted by my hints of self-immolation so I could at least dispense being his burden. That was when he had passed his own torch on to me. When he told me about keeping my fire, I hadn't understood at the time while too absorbed in my own numbness, but it wasn't until I began seeing the blue blaze in Todd's eyes as he became feral in his protection, did I comprehend the fire he carried. He had not been ready to fold his hand just yet, so I stayed to play so he didn't have to continue on his own. _How fuckin' ironic was that shit._ Todd had such a flame about him that when he never came back I was left swallowed in almost complete darkness. Now with child, I had to will myself to keep not just one fire ablaze anymore.

"Fuck you," I breathed, still so upset and embittered at everyone and everything that deserted me in this world. Fuck Todd for knocking me up and letting himself get killed. Fuck Merle for being the backstabbing murderer I knew he really was. Fuck Caesar for being so weak to obey whatever order Philip, his precious _Governor_, condoned. _And_ fuck _this baby._ Mine and Todd's relationship had been contaminated beneath the surface for quite some time before the world corroded in on itself; the growing distance towards one another had originated over a disagreement over children which made this whole situation seem almost spiteful. When we were in out mid-twenties and our budding companionship started to become intimate, I had informed Todd that I had no desire to have children, and at the time he had been open to understanding my reasons. Yet somehow after four years of us in a place I'd become perfectly content with, it seemed shortly after moving to Georgia, Todd became instilled with some restless insistence to steer us in a direction I'd already confessed I was extremely wary of. I don't know if he assumed I would eventually warm to the idea of a family, or whatever had concluded his reasoning, and had acted wounded when I remained firm on keeping the door shut on having any kids. I had never been sure what triggered his sudden emotion for a baby and I'd spent weeks feeling guilty and confused by Todd's sudden cold contriteness towards me. While I was engrossed in work and juggling bills, we found ourselves with so little in common anymore and it sparked resentful behavior between the two of us that caused us to blurt things out to one another we'd never intended to admit before. Todd had never completely settled with our move from California, but I was about to be laid off and we couldn't afford to live comfortably on just Todd's construction work. When I was suggested a position in Atlanta by my sympathetic supervisor that even paid better, I regrettably put Todd in the position to either come with me or lose me. In the beginning I'd been so relieved Todd chose to leave with me, it had been new and enticing to integrate our lives together in another state across the country, yet we hadn't anticipated it to take so long for Todd to find another job and the pressure of all the financial responsibility had been put dependently on me. This was also another initiation of cracks in our relationship when my increasing frustration stirred Todd to begrudgingly vocalize his blame towards me for leaving his work, his friends, and family. It seemed that even though this world was now colored with crimson and chaos, I had at least been quietly gifted with another chance to repair the love that had become so brittle between us. _We just had each other to keep alive._ The world went to shit and left us to see how insignificant everything else had been compared to one another.

And now, that I was left alone, Todd finally got what he'd wanted.

"Well here's your fucking family," I snarled to no one. "Where the fuck are you _now_?"

I still carried a fire, and it burnt away the anguish to engulf my heart in a smoldering animosity.

* * *

_Thanks so much for taking the time to read and hope to hear your constructive criticism on how this opening chapter felt for you. This was inspired when in episode Say The Word in season 3, the Governor mentions in his speech to the town that there were "nine of us holed in an apartment living off spam and saltine crackers". The story will approach the birth of Woodbury from their start from Atlanta to Olive's separation, so I hope you enjoy the direction this story will be taking, but don't fear, the plot is definitely going to intertwine with the prison group as well. The title and concept of "carrying the fire" was inspired by Cormac McCarthy's novel, The Road. That concept just moves me with such deep simplicity and I wanted it to be the theme to this story. And if any of you guys maybe thought about this while reading, I had already chosen the name Olive months ago when constructing this story from my head and I've always had a thing for the name Todd so it just seemed to sound right to me. Then a few weeks ago, Easy A was on tv and I totally realized there's another couple Olive and Todd, lmao! I swear there is no affiliation between Emma Stone's Olive and mine. I want to say this will be an eventual Daryl/OC, but that won't develop for quite some time, sorry you horndogs. It took Daryl three seasons to just form a companionship with Carol, so I find it very unbelieving in some fast paced romantic introductions. Please review!_  
_Disclaimer: I own nothing. Only the OC's you do not recognize._  
_EDIT 6/24/13: Special thanks to Airi for beta reading!_


	2. Chapter 2

_"In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed." Corinthians 15:52_

Chapter Two

_"New's reports of the Chicago Cub's game canceled due to last night attacks occurring in Illinois, with military now using Wrigley's Field as the city's safe zone..._

_ "Disneyland is reporting to be shut down and has yet to release a date of it's reopening in Anaheim, California. After the Screaming Over California Rollercoaster accident caused by a sick employee, representatives of Walt Disney Co. are fearful of the fever epidemic throughout California..._

_ "Mass murders reported at a Best Western in Ann Arbor, Michigan near the cities local university. At 12 o'clock this morning, a whole floor of resident's staying at the hotel were found dead by a guest returning to their room..._

"_New's Reports in Albany, Georgia of husband and father Bruce Barbosa, assaulted his family late last night around 4 A.M. Unfortunately, wife Marta Barbosa was found deceased and their two children are in critical condition. The bizarre aspect now made apparant when police released Marta Barbosa's cause of death was from lethal avulsions to her jugular while the children received similar flesh wounds..."_

Turning from the television hanging in the break room of St. Joseph's Hospital, teeth tugged against my bottom lip at the sight of the phone glued to my hand still showing zero texts or calls. I'd been trying to get a hold of Todd all morning, but of course, he was ignoring my calls. Today wasn't the time to be spiteful as the new's reports over the past week were getting stranger and had abruptly come closer to home. Albany was only a few cities away. My dad had called yesterday informing me how back in California, freeways were parking lots and had prevented him getting to work that day. Los Angeles was practically quarantined off last night, but with all these different _crazy_ stories flying everywhere no one knew exactly what to believe. Todd had told me his brother was saying hospitals were overcrowded and even beginning to turn people away. Those with symptoms of extreme fevers, chills, vomiting, and even dementia were being told to report to UCLA's Medical Center to be treated but had been unsuccessful at calming the sick as everyone flocked to LA. This contagious virus was spreading throughout major cities the quickest, Seattle and Houston were taking a hit just as hard. Then amongst the bewilderment, it was released that this infection was being transferred through direct fluidic contact which floored everyone causing a chaos of people turning on people. Everyone was afraid of someone who could be _infected_, so they called them. Warnings about symptoms of intense pain or numbing and discoloration from wounds were also now surfacing. _What kind of disease _was_ this shit?_ I'd been nervous about leaving for work the past couple days, but at three A.M there hadn't been any occurrances in Georgia yet to really hinder me from going. Yet it was today, a Wednesday morning a few hours into my shift, I came back from our last call to catch everyone drawn to the news like one would see flies hover towards a light. Being EMT's in a hugely populated city of over 400,000 people, we were all wondering if we'd soon be getting calls for similar appearances in Atlanta now that rumors were spreading of it close by.

"It's starting to sound scary serious, isn't it?"

Nodding, I turned to see the worried creases in my usually easy-natured pal Zhao, having just gotten back with me after our last call he stared just as strangely at the news with other EMT's inbetween runs. Zhao met my glance, offering his usual small, sheepish smile that would have normally comforted me, and placed his hand on my shoulder for a moment. "Albany's close... you get ahold of Todd yet?"

Zhao Vin was one of the first few friends I made when transferring to Atlanta as we were often put together on the same EMS crew and had gradually bonded over some of the shit we had to see in our line of work. My Buddhist acquaintance from work had grown into a good confidant once I finally learned to pronounce his name correctly- even though I now intentionally call him Jwoww as a running joke. Ironically, despite his religious upbringing, I recognized we shared similar interests after discovering we had both been Astrobiology majors briefly during our college careers. We could compare opinions on documented explorations and talk about literature of evidence for prebiotic chemistry or habitable biospheres for hours over a few cold Bohemians. Contrary to the usual stereotype, I had inquired once why Zhao wasn't a surgeon or at least interning for a residency in a hospital by now, to have him answer me back with a joke about how there was such a thing as a lazy asian. He soon became a guest invited over regularly for dinner (drinking) and even Todd took a liking to my friendly co-worker besides getting over us having to cook vegetarian meals for his visits.

I humored him with a small smile for his concern but had to sigh as I stared back down at my phone impatiently.

"It's not just Todd. My dad was telling me yesterday it's getting weirder in California, and now I can't even reach him _either_. Can you believe the government actually closing down LA? Where are people even supposed to go now? I've been trying to get a hold of my sister, but of course she never picks up- she can post shit on her facebook but can't answer the phone?" I huffed. Zhao chuckled softly and shook his head, trying to act more sympathetic for my predicament once I threw him a dark look. "And don't even get me started on the other one. I'll leave a voicemail and won't hear back for a week from her... New York isn't sounding any better."

Being the middle child of three girls in a household with just my father for most of my teenage years growing up, our catty antics towards each other had grown familiar over the years. My older sister Natalie, had always been the one getting in trouble; constantly breaking curfew, ditching school, or sneaking out to parties. Our dad had become so passive after our mother was incarcerated and knew little about controlling a rebellious sixteen-year-old. Nat took off to New York first chance she got after turning eighteen and hardly called and even more rarely came back to visit. With such a tiny lithe body and sharp features, she worked in some boutique but pursued a modeling career from what she told us and would send copies of her shoots every so often. Nat and my younger sister Jemma, had both inherited our mother's lovely high cheek-boned face rather than my dad's much rounder and softer features like I did.

Jemma on the other hand, had once been closest to me all her life but only just recently grown an ocean apart. Born with such in age difference between us, Nat and I practically raised her. But now, she was a moody seventeen-year-old who talked to me with an attitude ever since I moved to Atlanta. From the result of being gone from our lives for fifteen years, Jemma hardly acknowledged our mother or went to her visitations once she began to mature and realize how selfish she had to have been to land herself in prison. Even after getting out a couple years ago, it was a lost cause for Rhian to reach out any more to her daughters. I don't know how, but I had taken on the role of trying to rope in Nat constantly from being expelled from school or getting arrested while causing havok with whatever current boyfriend of her's at the time, or watching a baby Jemma to help my father with his shaky parenting. My concern was often rejected and my sisters now accuse me of being meddlesome and display every sign of their annoyance with me, constantly trying to sever a bothersome tie it almost seems.

I'd shared these frustrations with Zhao at some point, having four sisters of his own, so he understood how frustrated I got when it came to my family and it showed as he gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"They'll call. You know how it goes," he assured. Before we could say much more, Dr. Alicia Kuhn bustled out with charts already in hand and in a brisk stride while continuing to look them over. A dark skinned, short haired, middle aged woman, Kuhn was the hospital's medical director in charge of the EMS division hired for St. Joseph's who ruled with an often exacting fist. Others lingering between calls to watch the news also noticed Kuhn coming our way and got up from watching to gather together.

"Alright people, St. Joseph's has been notified that we are to assist the CDC until further notice," Dr. Kuhn announced, finally looking up from her clipboards. "Your job from this point on is to transfer the care of any patients with suspicious fevers and bite _or _scratch victims to the Center for Disease Control and Prevention, despite any and all insurance claims. So that mean ya'll will be checking in with EMD _frequently_, they'll be your best friends today and you'll be reporting your status regularly to dispatchers. So no stones unturned folks, we're being thorough- no obsessive vomitting, no discoloration to any open lesions, avulsions, or lacerations, and no complaints of joint pains are to pass through these hospital doors. Anyone else, bring em in."

We all looked around uncertainly.

"_Bite_ victims?"

I wondered if I should've said to hell with work today as this was beginning to sound dangerously consequential.

"Atlanta, ladies and gentleman, is to be quarantined off," Kuhn informed us almost impatiently, like it was any other busy day waiting for the rest of us while we connected the dots on how this afternoon was going to go. "We're just waiting on military, then they're preparing to block off roads leading in or out of the city and broadcast Atlanta as a refugee zone for civilians to evacuate to. It's our _job_ to keep the infection outside the city to the CDC."

It was a heavy weight thrown at us and I could tell it hit everyone collectively what this meant. My hand jerked to clutch the phone in my pocket.

"I'll give ya'll a couple minutes while I'm waiting on the others to come back, every EMT will be on today. Call your families and tell em' what's going happening. Keep in mind people, we're practicing highest levels of prevention! I don't need any ya'll infected and bringing it here. Dallas, Owens, Edwards you'll be heading on out once you're done, we got a collision down on 7th just off of Midway. Iha, Palacios, and Soto you'll be following. It's right before the onramp people, so it's gonna be piled up, we needa' be in and out."

Both EMS teams looked apprehensively at each other, but nobody had any real balls to speak up to Kuhn until Amanda Palacios, a small hispanic girl with her hair tied back in a high bun spoke up. "What's going to happen once military does get here? Is Atlanta going to be sealed off like New York and LA?"

"Yeah, I heard they've lost all communication in Seattle, too. I got a family Alicia, I commute as it is and I can't get stuck in downtown," Will Soto piped up somewhere behind Zhao and I. There were other murmurs of agreement amongst the group of EMTs, stopping Kuhn from her distracted reading and looked up from her charts to actually notice our worried faces. Dr. Kuhn's expression turned hard as she slowly steered her gaze around at us all, her arms dropped to her hips and lips pursed. When her dark eyes eventually met mine, I couldn't help but grimance and look down at my sketchers to avoid her scrutinizing.

"_You_ people are first emergency responders, and you're trying to tell me you want to take the day _off_?" she asked slowly but loudly. Nobody had much to say about that, feeling a little guilty myself. "Fine Soto, go 'head and go home. You wanna go too, Palacios? How bout you, Iha?"

Amanda didn't move or say any more, and neither did Jimmy Iha who seemed upset he'd been dragged into the conversation without having said anything, but just shook their heads. Kuhn looked back over at the rest of us as if we'd spoken out just as much, "Anybody else?"

When no one else spoke up, Kuhn shoved one of her clipboards at Liam Owens, not looking at him much as she continued to survey over us. "Four car collision, don't know how many have any bites, but there's one who is reported to been bit for sure."

Liam accepted the chart silently, Leanne Dallas and Jared Edwards following his lead outside to prepare their assigned ambulance.

"Be lucky ya'll have a head ups. Safest place is here at the moment and I'd suggest you inform your families of that." Alicia's eyes must have finally found what she'd been scanning for and called, "Cassidy, take over Iha's ambulance. Vin, Somerset, get going."

Nodding briefly, I turned to go meet the others by the ambulance to try and reach Todd again before we left while Kuhn assigned other calls. I didn't know what to make of this and I was becoming anxious at how surreal this all felt. Reaching into my jacket's breast pocket, I pulled out my inhaler and pushed down on the plunger to huff in a light wisp of medication to try and put my tightening breaths at ease. Zhao went to retrieve our chart while I hurried to get fresh air outside on the way to our ambulance and to do a check on supplies. I took my phone back out and felt my chest continue to constrict;_ still _no word from Todd. Later I would probably be excessively busy from the sound of it, so phone time would be little to none once I headed out. So upset and pissed he'd do this to me at a time like this, I was just as worried for my own family being so far while shit like this was starting to go down, but I dialed him again anyways.

Let down once again as the line went to voicemail, I squeezed my eyes shut and hiccup-inhaled another breath in frustration.

"I wish you'd stop being such an asshole right now Todd," my voice cracking a little as I gulped back panicking tears and tried to remember I was still at work while speaking into the phone. "They're telling me here that they're gunna start telling people to evacuate Georgia and blocking off Atlanta as a safe spot. I haven't been able to get a hold of a-anybody and I don't know if I should leave work and go home o-or stay here in the city- I don't know what I should do and you won't answer- !"

Not realizing I was beginning to shout until I could hardly breathe properly, I rested the phone face-down against my chest while I choked back my blubbering to take another inhale of my inhaler. Blinking away tears off my eyelashes, I pinched the bridge of my nose to get a hold of myself before I raised the phone back up to finish my message in a more composed voice. "When you get this, get to Atlanta, Todd. I'll be at work."

Hanging up, I waited and gathered myself as completely as possible before dialing my dad. Oddly, instead of ringing, the call was directed straight to voicemail as well. After a few more tries without getting any better of a result, I tried calling Jemma again. The same result. Nat's number did the same. Frowning at how completely alone I was feeling at not being able to get in contact with anyone, I had to resign to switch the ringer off and stuffed it back in my pocket.

When I made it to ambulance #06, Zhao was waiting for me and brought me up to speed with the 911 call we'd been assigned to while unlocking the back of the cab. Steven Cassidy, the AEMT of the group with the most seniority of the team walked out after us, a pale thirty-eight year old fellow that reminded me of Todd with his thick goatee, only darker and trimmed neater. After pulling open the doors, Zhao tossed the keys over for Steven to catch but seemed to have disrupted him out of his thoughts when they just hit his arm before he could react fast enough to catch them.

"Shit- sorry Steven," Zhao called. I bit my lip to keep from snickering a little, but Steven didn't seem to be in the mood to fool around with us like usual as he threw Zhao and I a dirty look before bending down to retrieve the keys off the ground. I glanced over at Zhao who also raised a careful eyebrow at Steven's bad mood while I heard him open the driver's door and start the engine.

Zhao sat across from me on the other side of the stretcher and reached over to close his side of the ambulance's door once we briefly double-checked our equipment. As I reached over to close my side, I caught the last of the night shift's ambulance pull up with it's sirens still blaring. It screeched to an abrupt stop outside the hospital's trauma entrance and the doors burst open as I saw the familiar faces of Carmen Floyd and Max Stoltzman rush out a woman screaming strapped down into the stretcher. There was blood all over everyone as I saw Carmen with her fingers plugged up the woman's stomach to keep from spurting out a fountain of crimson and intestines. Residents quickly rushed out from the sliding glass doors to meet the paramedics; all bedecked with standard surgical masks and gowns over their scrubs with hands already sterilized in plastic gloves. This sight disturbed me, but Steven was yelling back at me to close the door so we could leave.

I sat up front with Steven and buckled myself in, Zhao strapping himself into the seat just behind me and heaved a heavy unsettled sigh. Two cop cars were quick to flank us as Steven began to pull out of the hospital's parking after Liam, both the ambulance and police sirens blaring in sync with each other.

"You hear from anyone?" Zhao asked over the sirens as we drove behind the police, parting the light flow of cars so far in our path.

"Nope. Nobody," I replied darkly, trying to suppress my upset tears again.

"Me neither." I turned back to see Zhao staring down at his feet with a deep frown carved across his usually soft baby-cheeked features.

"Same here," Steven piped in after a long silence between us. His eyes never left the road in front of him, constantly scanning his mirrors to avoid any oncoming idiot drivers not paying attention or pulling over enough.

"Sorry," I muttered, understanding how lost we were beginning to feel in these turn of events. Aware that Zhao had quite a big family just outside in Senoia, Steven with a wife and little four-year-old girl as well, I knew they were hurting with worry just as much as I was. Yet they'd stayed. If this was a mistake, we'd soon find out.

* * *

The streets had been completely congested with practically dead-stopped traffic as we made our way through in the center dividing lane, the police still guiding our way as Jared Edwards could be heard instructing cars out of the way through the intercom up ahead, sirens still blaring. It had taken us even longer when we had to maneuver ourselves out of the way of another ambulance speeding back trying to get by us. Finally getting closer on 7th Street, we began seeing the pile up with police already gathered around. Steven pulled up to park as close enough out of the way that traffic could still be directed to get by and radioed back to dispatch of our arrival while Zhao opened the back and I hurried out to follow.

While we walked by to make our first assessment and were debriefed by police of the severity of injuries, I glanced over to see Leanne and Jared wheeling out their stretcher from the back of ambulance #04 to Liam who was crouching beside an open car door checking the pulse on a barely conscious driver and applying pressure to stop the bleeding that was spilling out from a wound under the man's shirt. Disconcerted that a three car bumper-to-bumper pile up could cause such a severely bleeding wound, but didn't have much time to worry about Liam's patient before I was being called after.

The woman who had hit the first car with the bleeding man inside because he'd made such an abrupt stop she said, Kate Henrys she told us her name was, had been on her feet outside her car looking on guiltily while the police were taking her statement. We moved her over to sit in our ambulance after the cops were done and moved on to the other woman who'd been the last car in the accident. There was no serious damage to her other than a cut she received just above her brow from hitting the steering wheel. I surveyed the collision over again and looked back to see Leanne and Jared loading up and strapping down the now seizing man.

"Aye Owens!" I called, waving my arms to get his attention. "St. Joseph's?" I asked when his gaze darted to find who'd called him. Liam paused, his sombered expression letting me know before he shook his head before hopping in the driver's seat and closing the door to pull back out with his sirens back on.

Fuck, _already_.

While the last person in the collision refused the ambulance, we loaded up Kate in the back as we prepared to travel her to St. Joseph's after recording her injuries and reporting it back to EMD. As Zhao and I continued to check over her, I placed my stethoscope to document her heart rate to find it was racing. Not unusual for someone just experiencing a car collision, but as I glanced up at Kate, I noticed her repeatedly keep wiping sweat from under her bangs. Catching Zhao staring back over me, I realized he was noticing at the same time as I.

"Did you start heating up like this before the accident?" I inquired, looking back over to the patient and feeling Steven beginning to pull back out into traffic.

"Nah, no, I'm just stressed out, y'know?" she assured, attempting to laugh but it came out more like a shaky high-pitched breath. "Insurance was high enough on that car without adding an accident now."

She took another swipe over her face but smiled back at us. Nodding my head, keeping this as casual as possible while watching Zhao rip open the plastic wrapping of a thermometer, if the surgical mask wasn't covering my mouth, she would have seen me grin back and began adding notes on her condition to our chart.

"Eesh, don't gotta tell me twice about insurance rates," I assured easily, setting down the chart and plucking some moist gauze to clean off some of the blood that dribbled from her cut. "Coulda' been worse though, no?"

"Yeah, I guess," Kate murmured.

"Miss Henrys, if you could just say 'ah' for me please?" Zhao interrupted, pulling his mask up for a moment to mimick how wide he wanted her mouth open. Complying, Kate followed Zhao's instructions as he slipped the thermometer under her tongue. "You can go ahead and close now. This will just be a minute."

Aware Zhao was intentionally acting blase about taking her temperature, I felt nervous but did my best with keeping myself busy disinfecting her cut. When there was finally a small little beep indicating the thermometer was done registering the temperature, Zhao extracted it back from her mouth and turned his back to us as he read the stick. Without a word, Zhao threw the disposable thermometer in the hazardous waste bin before turning back around and began twitchily adding the temperature to her chart. If you didn't know Zhao, you'd be none the wiser.

"We'll be to the center in just another couple of minutes, ok Kate? It's just the traffic we got to go through is making this a longer ride," he assured, placing his gloved hand over her own before turning to walk towards Steven driving up front. My heart plundered at his reference to a "center" rather than the hospital and I wasn't sure how to approach this situation now. Half of me was now afraid for my own health, but I realized how easily it could be to frighten this poor woman and just remained as neutral as possible.

"You feeling ok other than that cut? No nausea of any kind like you might have any concussion?" I continued to question like any other patient. Shaking her head negative, I continued to play along with her. Excusing myself, assuring Kate I was checking on how much longer it would be and approached my colleagues.

"...this girl's running a 104 degree fever and her heart rate is borderline tachycardia- she should be about to stroke," Zhao hissed from the passenger seat next to Steven who, I'd noticed was no longer taking the streets back into the city.

"We're not taking her back," Steven muttered, not looking any where but the road with a stoic stare.

"She's not telling us something," I interjected, whispering to keep Kate from hearing our conversation over the sirens. "There's no bites we can see... you think we need to start shredding clothes to see if there's something she's not showing us- or maybe isn't aware of?"

"What're we going to tell her? Slicing open her jeans and taking her to the CDC's pretty extreme for a minor car accident," Zhao exasperated. Something must be unnerving my friend, but I couldn't tell if it was guilt at having to surrender her to quarantine or the the prospect of traveling to the CDC- and I could understand that.

"We tell her we're doing our job," Steven bit back sharply. "Kuhn said no suspicious fevers, and it's not gunna be on my ass to bring that shit in."

Zhao and I exchanged looks, understanding quietly what had to be done, not just because it was a job.

* * *

When we pulled into the CDC, it was like we approached a military base rather than a medical research center. I watched eerily as we passed by tanks driving down streets, soldiers flanking around the perimeter stopping and questioning any vehicles attempting to enter. This was fucking barmy I thought, never havinig seen an army tank in person yet here they were in Atlanta, Georgia, with soldiers waving and directing us to another line of various paramedics other than St. Joseph's being opened and searched through.

Informing Kate of our instructions to take her to the research facility rather than the hospital hadn't gone too well. She had thrown a fit, demanding we pull over and let her out even. I felt terribly apologetic trying to explain our reasoning, tasting like fake empathy in my mouth just listening to myself before she burst into distressed tears. In her breakdown, she finally confessed, at last pulling up the bottom of her pant's leg to show us a hideously deep scratch below her ankle that had been bleeding into her sock. She explained how she'd been walking to her car from class and came up on a girl she thought was passed out in the parking lot. When she approached, the woman grabbed on to her and held on so tight that when she yanked her leg back. she'd scratched her hard. I assured her that she'd be in good hands under the care of some of the best doctors in the country, yet as we begun witnessing soldiers ripping patients from ambulances and strap them down for them to be whisked off in such a terrifying rush, this did little to comfort Kate.

When it came to our turn, a soldier began asking Steven about who we had with us and asked to see all our identification badges from the hospital and EMT licenses. In the middle of answering questions, the back twin doors were opened to flood the air conditioned interior with the humid flush of Georgian heat and Kate shriveled back as guns were pointed in at her, then back towards the three of us being questioned up in the front. My eyes must have turned into dinner plates when I whirled my head back to look horrified at these soldiers surveying us through the sights of their guns.

"Where's the infected area?" the soldier inquired, his voice muffled behind his own prevention mask and wasting no time in pleasantries. Kate seemed too shocked to speak as she just reached down with tremendously shaking hands, pulling up her pant leg again to reveal her enflamed scratch. Wordlessly, he looked over the wound, still training the gun with his view while aiming it back up at us. "How about any of you? Has anyone else been scratched or bit, any fluidic contact?"

"Can you please not put that gun in our faces?" I snapped, shocked at how traumatizing they were making this out to be.

Before the soldier had time to respond back, Zhao interrupted, "No, there hasn't. We just disinfected the small laceration on her head before she told us about the ankle."

Nodding, he kept his eyes trained hard on mine as I shot him just as nasty of a look before signaling for two others, giving no further warning as they hauled themselves inside the back and pulled Kate down to strap in her arms and legs as she began now crying and begging to know why she had to be restrained.

"Just a precaution Mam'," they assured her as they wheeled her on the stretcher out the ambulance. The intensity of fear on Kate's face made me feel severely guilty and was what spurred me forward to grasp ahold of her strapped down hand.

"You're gunna be fine, ok Miss? Don't be scared," I assured her as I squeezed her palm under my gloved fingers and pulled down my mask to show her a reassuring smile, however small it was. I only walked so far with her before I was pulled back and left standing horribly lost outside the ambulance doors.

* * *

The way back had been completely silent between the three of us. After radioing back on our return, Steven sat in silence behind the wheel as we waited through traffic. Zhao wasn't much better staring out the window at the tanks now actually apearing in the city than just around the perimeter of the CDC. I looked on quietly with my jittery friend, not belted in and looking over the seat to watch what was beginning to happen. Traffic was practically stand still as we barely inched forward every so many minutes, but I was glad for it, a little scared myself about having to pay another trip to the CDC. Everything was still trying to process and filter through my brain, still winded about having to drop someone off first go out. They were making this a safe zone, so there shouldn't be that many more trips eventually. Right? As we approached St. Joseph's, we realized that most of this traffic was _for_ the hospital. We held our breathes when we began to see just how jam-packed of a parking lot it was outside. And the panic. All the panic of people scrambling to get inside the hospital doors- and there were soldiers here too now. What the hell had happened while we were gone? I watched from the window as a woman was staggering helplessly to the emergency entrance, her hands clamped tightly over a wound on her neck that was gushing blood through her fingers and all over her clothes. Two others were trying to help a man limp inside, every step leaving behind a trail of blood coming down his leg to trickle across the ground. Tons of other people with similar visible avulsions and lesions were trailing towards the entrance that looked to be a madhouse for the doctors and nurses trying to block their passage through.

"My god..." I couldn't help but gasp as I felt the air disappear out of my chest.

"Fucken really? Oh Jesus Christ!" Steven suddenly shouted as he waved his hand up to gesticulate frustratingly. The car in front of us had completely put itself in park, the driver jumping out and running to pull a woman out of their passenger seat. She looked chalk white and her eyes were closed with such an agonized expression while she was vomiting blood all over herself even as the man picked her up easily in his arms and ran her to the hospital's entrance- completely abandoning his car.

Steven then turned on the siren to get the lane next to us to stop so we could maneuver the ambulance around the car to make our way to the ambulance lot. Zhao radioed in our predicament to dispatch, but strangely received silence which was now not surprising to see why. As we eventually began pulling up to the EMS parking, Steven honked a bit hesitantly when we saw the gates were closed. It was then that soldiers ran out and opened the gates, waving us in urgently, realizing why when I saw out the back windows how fast they closed it behind us on people beginning to run and protest for admittance here as well. Taking another intake of air from my inhaler, I turned to see Zhao staring out the back too. When Steven finally pulled us into a space, he put us in park and hopped off without another word. Zhao and I seemed to be frozen in place for a few moments as we just stared out at the riot of injured begging for entrance._ So many_. How could this have happened so fast? When we shook ourselves, Zhao exited out first, holding the door open for me to step out after but was immediatley met with more soldiers, acting just as paranoid of us as the ones back at the CDC, one already talking to Steven in hostile tones.

"Any bites, scratches?" he asked, waiting little time in looking over me while jerking up my sleeve to get a look at my wrists and then crouched down to inspect my ankles.

"Uh- no," I stuttered, backing up and scowling at them in disbelief. "Sir, please keep your hands _off _me."

The other soldier was checking out Zhao just the same, but he just warily allowed it to happen as he kept staring at the people pleading against the parking lot gate. I was about to snap back at this bold soldier as he just continued to try and finish a better inspection of me until I saw Dr. Kuhn rushing out to us from the EMS entrance.

"Ya'll bit? Scratched?" she demanded while half out of breath.

"Nah Alicia, we're all fine," Steven answered for all of us while Zhao and I nodded. Kuhn waved off the soldiers before reaching to grab ahold of my arm above my elbow and yanked me with her, gesturing for Steven and Zhao to follow at a fast walk, practically jogging.

"There was an MCI at downtown's mall. These people _can't _be treated here," Kuhn explained as we followed her through the unusually crowded hallways of St. Joseph's. "This is a military decision now. You're not doing calls, you'll be transporting the wounded out to the CDC to be taken care of there instead. They're about to announce it in just a few minutes outside, we're waiting on Owen's team to get back."

"You mean like an outbreak?" Steven called before he caught Kuhn's arm and stopped her to face us. "Alicia, what going on?"

"What's going on is some shit just bled all over downtown Atlanta an hour after broadcasting this is supposed to be a safe zone!" she whirled around to snap back. And I realized. Kuhn was just as freaked out about what was happening as we were. I'd never got to know her too well, but I heard she commuted from work outside the city herself. She kept a picture of a little fourth grade boy on her office desk, so I knew she must have other places she was wishing she could be as well.

We remained quiet after that as Steven let go of Kuhn, reaching up to wipe his eyes briefly and sniffing. Kuhn's stressed ridden face softened.

"Owens and them aren't back yet?" I interrupted quietly.

"Yeah they should be back by now," Zhao agreed. "They even left before us."

Kuhn nodded, deep worried wrinkles seeped back into her face as she thought to herself for a moment.

"Last response back was almost a half hour ago, saying they were on the way to the CDC," she informed us. On the way? It was strange for them not to have even reported they were on their way back by now. "So if they're not back by the time we tell em' outside, I'm sending ambulances #03 and #08 to back ya'll up when they get in."

My chest was rapidly beginning to clench and my breaths were becoming smaller and sharper. Kuhn looked thoughtfully at me as I shook my inhaler to take another dose.

"This something you guys think you can do?" Kuhn asked in a more serious tone, yet it was the most empathetic I'd ever heard it. "If not, I can trade ya'll out, but you needa give me the heads up."

There was a pause between us all as we shared looks. I could feel my mouth about to blurt _yes!_ trade me out. It had been scary enough just to visit the CDC once, let alone making multiple trips back and forth with nothing but_ infected _people. But when I reached back into my pocket to peek at my phone, there were still zero alerts. With another huff from my inhaler, I shoved the phone back away and nodded to Kuhn who'd been watching me.

"I can do it," I assured her, tucking my inhaler away as well.

"Yeah, I'm ok," Zhao added shortly after.

We all glanced over at Steven who was gnawing on the inside of his cheek and staring down at the floor. He sniffed again and looked up at us with watery eyes. It always unsettled me to see grown men cry, especially Steven who always kept a calm and collected composure through some of the most gruesome accidents I've seen him deal with. I couldn't help but let my thoughts wonder to how Todd was taking this situation. Was he worried enough to the brink of tears somewhere?

"I'm sorry," he finally said, clearing his throat as he continued, "I can't guys."

Taking this with a surprisingly easy stride, Kuhn nodded, excepting ambulance #06's keys back from him.

"Alright Steven, when ambulance #02 gets back you can head out and do calls-"

"No Alicia," Steven interrupted softly. "I can't."

Shocked, there wasn't anything I could say and I had no words of persuasion to offer. Zhao however was nodding in understanding, a sad and concerned look stilled across his face, yet he had no words to offer either.

"I'm sorry. I gotta find my family. My wife- she's still in crutches and can barely drive," he said, wiping his eyes more with the back of his hand. My heart sank a little for him, remembering him saying a few weeks back his wife had broken her ankle. This made me worry even more for Todd. How would I find _my _family?

"Steven we can't just jump ship now! If we don't keep this contained out of the city-"

"_Oh my God!_"

Everyones conversations died when everyone began rushing towards the televisions hanging up in the hospital halls. Approaching ourselves, I couldn't believe what my eyes were watching on the television screen. News footage from a helicopters vantage point was shooting New York City immiting nothing but smoke rising from the city like a steaming pot over a stove when you released it's steam from under a lid. And as another video was played of a closer up look, what was read to be Central Park below on the new's caption, the acre of trees and greenery were completely up in flames. Screaming, gunshots and sirens could be heard- but no one was putting out the fire. The news was reporting the ravaging flames were consuming the city yet there were no firefighters in sight after an hour of being called and it was just police at this point. The new's reporter then cut to a woman in a hysterical state, the side of her face caked in blood as she cried into the microphone.

_"They-they were _dead_. My mom _stopped breathing _and her heart _stopped beating _but she came b-back to life and tried to _eat me_!"_

This was all like some movie, a really bad apocalyptic movie. But it was real,_ all real_, and my sister was somewhere in that fire engulfed city.

"I'm sorry guys." Dislodged out of this paralyzing fear gripping the entire hallway of everyone watching the woman sob about her family having turned cannibal and attacking her, I saw Steven start to step away, slowly parting from the group who'd huddled around to watch the news before turning around completely to walk out. Alicia called after him but he didn't look back as he turned down a hallway to an exit.

Kuhn looked almost lost as she eyed up the two of us that remained. I'm sure it was a shabby sight; Zhao was never know to be the bravest and was the most nervous of us during evaluations, and me, the asthmatic girl who'd only been working here for five months. Steven was supposed to be the more experienced and professional to tie up the group. I felt myself trying to rise to the occasion and ease back the terrified expression that must have been plastered across my face, composing myself for Kuhn's sake.

"When're they announcing about the CDC?" I asked.

"Any minute now, I need to start heading over..." Kuhn said looking down at her watch.

"If the other's aren't back by then, me and Zhao will just start till they get here," I assured, trying to grab a hold of a logical thought through all the other panicked thoughts whizzing through my brain. "Zhao's been getting better on his driving, he can be on the wheel while I'm in back."

"Are you sure, Olive?" Kuhn asked austerely, still looked at us with a deeply troubled expression but I just nodded at Zhao. I never thought Kuhn even remembered my first name.

"It's cool Alicia. You cool Zhao?" I assured, looking to my partner as he nodded back, still looking a little wary but less scared now.

"Alright," she said slowly, still in thought. "Alright, you guys go get ambulance #06 ready then."

Kuhn handed Zhao back the ambulance keys and we turned to head back out but I felt Alicia catch my arm again. Zhao stopped too as she looked at us with an emotion I couldn't quite believe. Since when did Dr. Alicia Kuhn look admiring to someone?

"Ya'll be careful. However you may feel about these people, you ain't gunna be helping nobody if you go and get yourself infected too. Don't do nothin' stupid for no one," she told us sternly before releasing me. We nodded back, I felt if I spoke all this composure I was trying to hold together would unravel. "Be safe."

"You too."

* * *

Zhao and I prepared the ambulance as sufficiently as we could manage. Normally, we'd try to avoid squeezing two stretchers in at a time, but we brought the extra in any way. I snatched extra blood bags and IV's, knowing we'd run out fairly quickly with the amount of people at the entrance, but the nurse only let me grab so many so I took more to stash from the supplies equipped for the other EMS supplies not being used. Zhao managed to grab a few more boxes of gauze and bandages before we could no longer stock up ambulance #06 without me being unable to move around enough as it was.

My hands had been shaking while I hurriedly loaded up the medical supplies, but I couldn't worry about that now as I purely focused on getting my breathing under control. With my lungs threatening to tighten up again, I continuously took deep breaths through my nose and out through my mouth. Knowing this was the quiet before the shit storm, I wouldn't have time to deal with this while transporting severely wounded people. _Infected people_. I wondered if I had woken up early this morning knowing what I know now, would I have still come to work? Ninety-nine point nine percent of me guaranteed work would be the last place I would have chosen to be while this world occurrance was going on. And ninety-five percent of me wanted to flee even now.

Peace out. Like Steven- _I gotta find my family._

What if Todd did listen to my voicemail, was on the way here to meet me, but I'd be out back and forth to the CDC? How would he even find me through all this chaos?

_What if he was one of those people bleeding out there?_

That other five percent of me reached out and felt empathetic to these people pleading outside the hospital for admittance. What if it was Todd, Nat, Jemma, or even my father begging right now? Would I want others to turn their cheek on those I loved and let them succumb to the fate of their infection? Just thinking of Todd, or even my baby sister looking so ghastly pale like the woman I'd seen earlier carried from the car made my chest ache.

There was no way to prepare us enough with the time we had before a soldier jogged over to inform us of the announcement was being made. Packing everything away, I sat up front with Zhao who started the ignition, checking and readjusting his mirrors before backing out of Steven's previous parking. The attention from the back gate was currently being distracted by the announcement happening up front, but those who still made attempts to try to sneak in through the back entrance were ordered back with guns in their faces by the soldiers guiding our way out. We drove slowly as more army protection flanked us out of the ambulance parking compound, keeping all out of our way as we maneuvered to park closer to the hospital's entrance. In front of us, we could see two U.S. Army armored cars also being directed towards St. Joseph's emergency entrance. We were waved to follow right behind, military back up having cleared our way through with the entrance looking much more organized than when we first came back. In the general parking lot, there were tanks parked in a formation to allow us to park and await patients without being completely mobbed. Zhao parked us inside the military's barrier easily enough, putting us in park and turning the keys out. Neither of us were really sure what to do but wait.

Curious of the armored cars rather than ambulances, I got off to gather more information on this plan we were going to be pulling off. Approaching one of the large transportation vehicles, it's driver exiting as well, I called out for his attention.

"Hey! Excuse me," I hurried to catch up as he paused for a moment to take me in. "Military's gunna help with taking people to the CDC?"

"Appears so," the man answered through the surgical mask over his face, having stopped and allow me to catch up, dressed in the standard uniform like every other soldier besides the red cross on his helmet. "Short on ambulances so we're taking some of the less severely infected 'til your people start showing up,"

This disturbed me to hear teams still weren't back yet, this was beyond unusually late.

"For sure," I muttered, my head trying to adapt to keeping itself straight. "Well we got two spots for the most critical, maybe two more that'll have to sit."

"Christ, that's it?" I could only see his eyes, but they were darting rapidly as he was surveying our vehicle. "We got room for a good half dozen in each of ours- but we can't overload these vehicles with too many we won't be able to handle if any of 'em start turning..."

I could see he was trying to scrap together a way to organize this plan just as much as I was, but I had to interrupt his train of thought when that last part of his sentence troubled me.

"'_Start turning'_?" I repeated back.

The confused look on my face seemed to unsettle him just as much at me having to ask, but before he could articulate a response back, shouting and screaming was rushed towards the blockade of soldiers. St. Joseph's head of surgeon must have finished the announcement. I couldn't believe how desperate these people were growing as the soldiers were hollering demands at the crowd to get back. Zhao was calling for me as he began to wheel out one of the stretchers to prepare to take the first to transport. I was about to rush back over as I saw everyone beginning to prepare, but was stopped quickly by a firm grasp on my shoulder. The soldier was eyeing me with a look I was unsure to place.

"Anyone flatlines on the way- you _do not _resuscitate," he yelled over the crowd.

It seemed like there was more he wanted to say and I was trying to ask why, but the rest of his team were calling for him as well. Pulling away, we went our separate ways and I ran back to the ambulance to help Zhao pull out the other stretcher.

A thick mass of people began pushing to break the line of soldiers containing the transporting vehicles from being overrun. I was realizing just how the soldiers were becoming increasingly aggressive at pushing people back, guns in citizens' faces that were growing increasingly desperate for medical attention.

"Everyone_ listen_! Please, everyone needs to get_ back_!" one soldier in particular was hollering. "We are taking a few of the most severely sick and injured_ first_!"

This did little to organize the mob as all began insisting they were in critical condition. Soldier seemed to look at one another, unsure of how they'd even separate out the sick to the sickest. And I couldn't blame them. I wouldn't want to be the one selecting who should be attended to first. Finally, two soldiers seemed to snap to it, spreading the crowd with waving rifles until a few of his brothers quickly followed after to help part the crowd. One of them dragged forward a chalk colored skinned man who's clothing was almost completely stained in his own blood that was gushing out through the crevices of his fingers tightly clamped over the grotesquely obvious wound on his neck, lymph muscles in tatters looking like wires someone had yanked out from behind a tv. A woman, possibly this man's spouse, was clutching tightly to him with her own hands pressed over the gash and was sobbing, blood seeping onto her own fingers as well. The soldier pried the woman's hands away, explaining loudly for others to hear as well that they could only take the sick. I watched as the woman was finally shoved back, still sobbing and left behind with nothing but the blood on her hands. While I was lost for a moment in horror, Zhao rushed forward without a second thought it seemed. More military men were quick to flank the stretcher as Zhao wheeled it forward and immediately laid the man down, sticking his own fingers on the bleeding while he and the soldiers quickly whisked the stretcher back to the ambulance. It didn't escape me as I saw the soldiers strapping this man's legs down and were going to pull his hands away to tie down as well before Zhao stopped them, explaining he needed him to keep his hands to help him apply pressure to his wound.

Not having much more time to watch, another soldier was thrusting forward two young girls, both supporting another girl who's leg all the way up to almost her knee was gone, the bottom of her pants were in tatters with make-shift bandages over the ribbons left of her shin. Snapping out of my haze of shock, I wheeled my own stretcher towards the barricade of tanks, soldiers parted while two others flanked me just as they had with Zhao. The girls wasted no time trying to lay their friend on my stretcher, doing their best to keep her leg supported as she screamed in pain when trying to lift her. The soldier that had pulled them forward had little patience for the time their gentleness was taking and heaved the girl's body in one motion onto the stretcher, causing her to shriek even louder before already ordering us to move back behind the tanks. Trying to determine the attention I should give to this girl's leg in the meantime until we would be arriving to the CDC, I also was looking around at more bloodied people being brought forward.

"We can take two more," I informed the soldier who had brought the girl over and was now strapping her arms down as we were approaching the ambulance. "Not like this. It's just me back there- two more that aren't as critical who can squeeze in the cab."

Cursing, the soldier nodded and was swiveling his head around to try and figure out this loading process. "Where the _hell _are your other EMT's? There's supposed to be more of you!"

"I don't know," I yelled back. "One's been M.I.A. for almost an hour now. All the rest are out taking calls."

"Fuck the calls! All of you need to be _here_, we can't just take two highly infected people at a time," he shouted as we began loading up the stretcher into the back of the ambulance next to Zhao who now had bundles of gauze pressed against his patient's neck.

"Don't take it up with us man," I snapped back. "I have no idea where anyone else is!"

Accepting my answer with no more words for me, he jogged off back to the barricade. Now left alone, I looked down at this girl barely staying conscious with her head lolling around and her forehead beading down heavy droplets of sweat. Just touching my gloved hand to her skin I could feel her burning up through the plastic. Wanting to attend to her leg before they brought us more of the sick, I wheeled her into the back with another soldier's assistance and cut open the whole side of her pants, including the bandages her friends had used to try clotting the bleeding to peel back and examine the leg. My stomach flipped over and I had to control my hand from clutching over the surgical mask to keep from being sick. This girl's leg was in shreds of barely attached skin, any muscles on her feet looking brutally torn right off to just reveal tatters of bones that had once been her foot. How was this an _infection_?

Blood was pouring out onto the sheet of the stretchers like a breached dam as soon as I pulled back the material. Stuffing as much gauze as I could to block the bleeding again, I wrapped more bandages around the ripped apart stump to hold it over while I rushed to the cooler in our ambulance to start grabbing ice packs to stock around the limb. It was the only thing I could really do until we got her to the CDC.

"It's gunna be ok, you just stay awake," I soothed, patting her cheek and trying to get her to focus as her eyes were rolling in the back of her skull. "Hey- hey Miss look at me 'kay? What's your name, can you tell me your name?"

I began ripping open a wrapper to another disposable thermometer with my teeth as I kept one hand pressed tightly to her leg. The girl's color was paling rapidly I figured from all the blood loss but her lips were mumbling very faintly as I watched her try to focus her gaze on me. "S-Steph...anie..."

"Stephanie? 'Kay Stephanie, we're gunna hurry and get you outta here," I assured her before sticking the thermometer under her tongue. Looking out the ambulance I could see soldiers bringing in more people to load into the armored cars as well. With all the blood Stephanie was losing, I was surprised she hadn't lost consciousness already, especially when I pulled out the thermometer to see she was running a 106 temperature.

"Hey stay with me still," I continued. "I need you to help me, ok Stephanie? I need you to sit up-" Adjusting the stretcher, I reclined her to sit up, causing her to whimper but nod her head tearfully at me. "And I need you to press down."

Grabbing one of her hands, I pushed them down over the bandages on her stump of a foot. She weakly obliged me and after informing me she was A positive blood type, I hurried to grab the blood bags I stored in our supplies. I tried to be as fast as I could setting up the IV to pump more blood back into her to keep her from going into shock. Once injecting the small little tube in the vein of her forearm, I replaced my hands back over Stephanie's tattered stump of a leg to allow her to ease back flat on the stretcher and elevated her lower half instead. Looking over, Zhao was having just as difficult of a time, maybe even more than me trying to cease so much of the bleeding but his patient's hemoraging was just not letting up and the man was heaving gasps for breath inbetween mouthfuls of blood.

When I was about to yell to a nearby army man to hurry the fuck up, we needed to transport them as quickly as possible, a group of soldiers were assisting two others our way. Beckoning them inside, I directed them to sit in the available seats behind me before surveying over them briefly. Grateful I could see that one man, a tall and tan-skinned, was clutching a bandage already over his forearm but didn't seem to be too crucial. However, the other guy, a red-faced stockier man, seemed capable enough but was shaking uncontrollably and bent over himself to clutch his stomach once he sat down. When we had everyone crammed inside, Zhao called over to the taller patient who obliged with wide eyes.

"I need you to hold your hands over him," Zhao instructed, not waiting for an agreement before pulling the mans hands to replace his own over the patient's spurting neck. "Just keep applying pressure. Just stand here and be here for him."

Without another word, Zhao hopped out the ambulance and closed both back doors before climbing into the drivers seat and switching on the sirens. I was relieved that at least one of us was stepping up. All my courage from earlier was quickly dissaparating while left alone and overwhelmed in the back with four infected victims. As we began to pull away, Zhao honked our horn a few times to alert we were set to go. Soldiers began waving Zhao in the direction to pull out while soldiers swarmed around us to part the crowd and allow us passage.

I stopped paying attention to what was going outside and began looking over the victims we were transferring. My attention was instantly attracted to the man crumpled over in his seat.

"Sir? Please, where are you hurt?" I asked as gently as my shaking voice could allow.

Looking up at me, as if confused and trying to understand what I was asking, he doubled over again. This time, with a loud heave, the man threw up all over the floor in front of him, spraying some of the blood he was vomiting up on himself and on my shoes. I grabbed the closest waste bin and tossed it in front of him before he could spill anymore blood bile on the floor.

Then, the man who's neck was peeled open began choking and heaving as well. Before I could react, the man was already throwing up blood as well and trying to gasp for breath after every heave. The less sick of our group who Zhao instructed to help was backing away a little in revulsion, letting his fingers go and more blood squirted out. Rushing over, I turned the man's head to the side to throw up on his side, replacing my own fingers over his jugular while trying to clean the blood around his mouth with more gauze. It took every ounce of self control to keep from throwing up myself while these two men were vomiting up black blood everywhere, liquid crimson beginning to drip and spill over the side of the stretcher, with every retch more blood pressed to spurt out of the man's leaking neck.

With only one of me, two puking their blood out, a woman with a gnawed off leg, I felt overwhelmed with my fingers stuck up this man's neck. Although medically trained, we were no surgeons. I was aware of different procedures that could be done for these people; a triple endoscopy needed to be preformed to save this man's airways and vocal cords while nerve and tissue damage needed to be checked before stitching the the skin back over the bone of the woman's amputated leg, yet I had never done such a surgery and couldn't remove my fingers from this man's throat to stitch anyone. I still needed to probe the wound on the other man's arm who was now standing as far away from the others looking on in abhorrence and figure out what was causing the other one to clutch his stomach so painfully. I could only just stand there and hope we reached the CDC soon before anyone bled out.

* * *

Reaching the CDC had been a war zone. Tons of other armored cars had zoomed by right with us as we made trips back and forth. After a while, we took turns driving to give me a break from the sickness happening in the back of the ambulance. Our first few trips had been the same as our previous visit. The man I had my fingers buried in had been ripped unceremoniously from me out of the back. The same for the woman who's foot had been nothing but bloody bone staining packs of ice. Soldiers took one look and abruptly yanked them from the ambulance without letting us know much more and hardly seemed to care about taking any charts so we stopped writing them. While observing the few times we'd dropped off, Zhao mentioned how we were one out of only a handful of paramedics even helping transport and deliver medical attention to the wounded. Military was just ushering out as many sick as possible, no matter if they were bleeding out in the back or not. All stories were the same. These people were being bitten- by _other people_. At first I couldn't quite believe or comprehend just what these victims were explaining to us, but as I began to examine these common gashes, it did indeed look as if something had taken a chunk out of these people's flesh, with _teeth_. But if I was to take a first glance, I'd imagine wolves or a bear taking such a huge bite out of someone, not another human-being. What kind of sick fucking people were these?

After a hand-full of trips, we no longer seemed to be medical responders but more like transporters for the severely sick. It was beginning to look like a murder scene in the back with so much blood stuck on the floor and our stretchers stained more with copper than an actual white sheet. In the matter of a few hours, I'd seen more gruesome injuries than in the past two years working as an EMT. This 'disease' had no discrimination; children with half their faces chewed off, women with eviscerations with their stomachs leaking out, elderly with their throats torn open. At any other time, it would have been completely unacceptable and a breech of a million health regulations the way we were stuffing all these bleeding and sick people in the back of our ambulances, but it no longer seemed the hospital was supervising these transports. I hadn't seen Dr. Kuhn and almost just as less hospital personal, we were being directed purely by U.S. military. Two more EMT teams had finally shown back up, but I didn't fail to notice Owen's ambulance had still yet to appear. We eventually discovered that like Steven, many EMT's, even doctors and nurses alike, were taking off to find their families or just getting the hell out of dodge. Despite our efforts to keep those infected out from the city, we seemed to barely make a dent amongst the crowd of people every time we pulled back into the hospital.

Every person we drove, I reassured them they'd be taken care of at the CDC, no matter how severe of a wound they were suffering from. That was until we arrived after several trips. I was driving while Zhao was in the back trying to sustain the blood loss of our newest patient oozing out from shallow chunks missing all over his face, the skin practically peeled completely off to show just strings of pulled muscle.

Brining our ambulance to a halt, I could not believe what my eyes could be showing me just up ahead and could just stare at what was construing in front of us. Gunshots were being fired amongst the formation of soldiers dividing the crowds of civilians. Any semblance of order was completely muddled in chaos of screams, crying, and gun fire. In front of us, an armored military vehicle was emptying out it's injured. Rather than leading them all towards the CDC, they were rounded up and shot dead in a neat row, like it was a goddamn _massacre _and the U.S. Army waws it's firing squad. Soldiers opened fire on all the sick lead out, gunned down in a hail of rapid fire just a few vehicles in front of us. My hand flew up to suppress a scream as I watched the last of the group's bodies fall to the ground. Shot dead by their own country's army. As my gaze flickered passed the line of vehicles still trying to enter the disorder of the CDC, I could see more being rounded up and shot down, pleading from the bindings of their stretchers to be shot mercilessly in the face without second thoughts.

My chest began to feel as if a heavy weight was caving in on my lungs, my breaths growing heavier to draw while I watched this scene before me fall apart in a million fucked up pieces. I felt extremely sick. These were people I'd helped bring here. People I'd promised would find refuge here in the care of the CDC. All of them just lined up like animals to the slaughter. With four other sick in the back of this ambulance, I couldn't bring myself to pull us forward and hand them over. Glancing back, I watched a woman we picked up shuddering weakly, her sternum practically clawed wide open, but Zhao was doing his very best to apply enough pressure to try and sustain the flow of her blood. All the while, another man was laying motionless close by, his nose and flesh around his mouth were completely ripped off leaving a mangled blood-drenched face. He might as well have been a rotting skeleton already and I wouldn't be able to tell if he was even alive anymore if it weren't for his shuttering eyelids. Our two other patients suffered much smaller wounds then the others, two sisters with injuries I'm sure they could survive with. One had a large bite wrenched out of her wrist, the stringy muscles and nerves in tatters under the bandages we urged her to clot the bleeding with. Her sister however had large lacerations slashed down her face, blood dribbled down every few seconds to wipe away as it splashed off her eyelashes every time she blinked. Unlike the others we helped transport, the military had made it a strict rule to keep the sick separated from the rest of the population and kept out of the ambulances, but with the lack of supervision each time we returned to St. Joseph's, we made an exception for the woman who's chest was cleaved open and allowed her boyfriend or whatever on to offer support. Daniel he said his name was, a hippie looking guy if I ever saw one with blond hair almost as long as my own hanging down his back. He was actually assisting Zhao very generously with the others injured, offering his help disinfecting the two sister's wounds and holding the hand of the man who's face was ripped off.

How could I surrender these people?

"What is that- what's going on?" one of the sisters breathed as she tried to look over the seat, no doubt everyone else hearing the gun fire.

Yanking the wheel around, I busted a bitch and sped off, putting as much distance between us and the research center. I floored my foot on the gas, speeding past traffic on the shoulder of the streets and flicking my siren back on to get cars to move out of the way. With no idea where to take these people, I realized I had no destination in mind either. I couldn't allow them to be treated at St. Mary's but two of these people wound die very soon without proper medical attention. Either way, death was impending.

"Hey, where're we going?" I could faintly hear Zhao call from the back as I continued to speed and weave through traffic. "Olive- where- what're you doing?!"

Only the thoughts of those faces ran through my head to fuel our acceleration away from that death camp. Terror shinned through their eyes, before the back of their skulls crumpled as bullets punctured through brains. Swerving around a car that had tried to make it's way around the lane of traffic to turn before it heard our siren, I still couldn't bring myself to explain what I was protecting us from.

"Olive- you're gunna get us killed! Olive, _stop_!"

Wedging us in the nearest empty spot against the curb, I pulled us into a spot and parked the ambulance, jerking us with the intensity I braked.

"What the hell are you doing! We need to get these people seen-"

"There is no being _seen_!" I shouted breathlessly. My chest was heaving up and down as I tried to collect myself, hands clenching so tightly to the steering wheel the bone under my knuckles were turning them white. Zhao was staring down at me incredulously, bewildered and concerned by my freak out. I glanced over at Daniel, replacing Zhao with holding his girlfriend's chest together, looking just as confused over at me. So were the sisters, now holding hands, but I could see the one who glanced around from behind the seat look on in at least a shred of understanding.

"Olive?" my gaze hazily looked back at Zhao who looked at a loss for words. "What'd you...what'd you see?"

That was the question I was still asking myself. What the fuck was I seeing?

"We can't take them," I breathed.

"What'dya mean? Lady, she's gunna die if we don't take 'em somewhere-"

"We'd be dead for sure with a bullet through the head," the sister who had the bitten wrist piped in. I realized she must had seen enough to understand my haste to escape the CDC. "They're not curing us...they're _getting rid of us_."

"But the broadcast- they said- this is supposed to be a refuge camp! _They said_ they were working on a way to take care of this-"

"Yeah, they're _taking care_ of us alright," the girl snapped but I could see the glistening of tears in her eyes.

"Where can we go now?" the other sister sobbed, her eyes were saucers with blood still dripping down her face. We looked back at Daniel beginning to sob over his now unconscious girlfriend, panic etching across his face like the rest of us. Zhao and I shared gazes, both of us looking as if this was our first day on the job. Neither could make out each other's expressions too well with the surgical masks strapped over our faces, but that didn't cover the terrified gleam in our eyes. We didn't know what the fuck to do either.

We were jerked out of our silence by shots popping off outside, and it sounded like more than just a couple guns being fired. _In the city? _Everyone capable leapt to look out through the back window, even myself as I crawled out of the drivers seat to the back of the ambulance. People were running. Out of buildings and even abandoning cars right in the middle of traffic. Tanks were plowing through the streets headed our way, soldiers with gas masks heaving abandoned cars blocking the the street to the side while the front ranks formed a tight barricade. Some one was screaming as we watched citizens pelted with gun fire and nudged out of the street to make way for the oncoming military. My stomach rolled as soldiers even shot those they'd already taken down through their heads for good measure.

"We gotta get out of here," Zhao breathed, his hands still pressed on his patients chest as he looked on over our heads.

It began to dawn on me how among those who were fleeing weren't just running from the military's gun fire. My gaze found a man, stumbling very uncoordinated and unbalanced no doubt from his leg ripped in pieces similar to Stephanie's wound we attended to earlier. Rather than running for safety, I realized he was chasing after a woman who was trying to bolt for a nearby store to run into. She tried to yank open the glass door but it appeared to be firmly locked no matter how much harder she pulled. This seemed to demean her to panic as she screamed and banged on the glass for someone to open the door for her. I then saw who she was yelling to, a man had locked himself in but was shaking his head from behind the glass and seemed to be gesticulating for her to run elsewhere. That selfish son of a bitch would not budge in letting the woman in no matter how much she sobbed at his door and I wanted to yell at her myself to keep running. During all her pleading, the man pursuing her had dragged himself closer, so close I realized he would corner her. I felt myself about to yell for her, but she seemed to turn around like a deer in headlights to see how close he'd gotten. In such proximity, this seemed to motivate this man's pursuit as he sped up to lunge for her. She screamed as she huddled against the door, petrified too much in fear to run out of this man's arm reach before he grasped onto her shirt collar and hair to drag her down in front of the door. I'll hand it to her, she didn't go down without a fight as she kicked at his frantically, getting a few good shots at his face but this seemed to affect him very little. When she tried to pound on him with her fists, he was able to grab one of her arms and yank it forward, before he leaned over and sank his teeth into her.

A scream from inside the ambulance erupted and I forgot it wasn't just me witnessing this. _Was this for real?_ As the woman tried to yank her arm back, another woman out of my peripheral seemed to have caught sight of what was happening. I felt relieved someone was hurrying to go help, but then watched in horror as she all but joined in and crouched over the kicking and screaming woman to take a bite out of her thrashing arms. My hands covered my mouth to tame the vomit that threatened to escape as tendons were torn out and snapped like wires. Blood spurted out against the clean glass door and the man just continued to watch behind his see-through barrier. The woman was soon buried from sight and her screams grew dimmer as another man ran to join this cannibalistic feeding frenzy. I could only see her feet from under these monsters ripping her flesh apart and _eating_ her- all while she was _still alive_- but her legs were now motionless and had stopped kicking. Similar occurrences were happening amongst the street, people being brought down like gazelles amongst a pack of lions to be mauled to death, and I now understood why soldiers were ordered to open fire.

All the while I'd been watching people eaten, kicking and screaming, I hadn't realized Zhao had been yelling at me until I felt my shoulder shake roughly. I snapped out of my petrified state to see Daniel shaking me and my ears finally tuned into what was happening inside the ambulance.

"-c'mon we needa go! Olive?! OLIVE!"

Zhao was standing over the bleeding girl, having made the less of the bleeding sisters hold pressure over her wound while he was now performing CPR over the no-faced man. The ringing in my ears I realized had been from his heart monitor flatlining. Daniel was shouting at me, but I couldn't really make out what he was saying, I could only find myself focusing on his tears leaking down his face and the blood. All the blood streaming from his girlfriend's chest. We were putting our hands against a dam.

"_Fuck_! Fuck man, they're headed this way- we gotta fucking go!"

My head snapped around to see that Daniel was indeed right, military was getting awfully close. From witnessing their own lack of discrimination of who was infected and who wasn't, I knew they'd find us and had a strong feeling they wouldn't think twice of shooting us all just by seeing the two especially critically injured people we carried. Finally I felt I was able to pull myself out of the fog I was dazed in and nodded my understanding. Hurrying back to climb into the drivers seat, I stuffed ambulance #06's keys into the inginition and started our engine, peeling off once the gear was switched from park to speed away from the curb I had stopped us against. I knew from my training we had to take it easy on turns and sharp maneuvers to keep from jostling around those in the back, but I had no choice but to jerk us out of the way multiple times to avoid abandoned cars and people running amuck in the streets. The thing about driving the ambulance, was to be aware you had heavy cargo and it was very easy to tip over. I was now pushing fifty as I sped us away from the approaching soldiers who were putting down the infected, and with all the left behind cars and streets crowded with people running from (or people running after other people), I was swerving and weaving quite a bit. The only thing I could think to do was return to St. Joseph's- where the fuck else _could _we go? Maybe if we could just get our hands on equipment from inside, we could treat these people outside the hospital.

It took us longer than usual, even with me speeding as fast as I could without killing anybody. I'd had to turn around and try different streets that lead back to the hospital due to roadblocks police and soldiers had put up on main streets. Buses were even parked in the middle of intersections and used as substitute barricades to keep from overcrowding the street, I couldn't see from what or why but I didn't have much time to inspect further before turning the ambulance in another u-turn to try a different route. All the while, I couldn't help myself trying to desperately keep from clamming up in frustration and suppressed a panicked sob as the ringing of now both heart monitors flatlined in the back. Zhao was still attempting CPR on the faceless patient while yelling instructions for Daniel to preform resuscitation on his girlfriend.

Eventually I was able to squeeze our ambulance through a few backstreets to reach the other side of a few main streets that had been blocked off earlier and at last I'd gotten us to the street that would lead us a straight shot back to St. Joseph's and I was more relaxed into the speed we were going. It was until we made it closer to the hospital did I start having to slow down as more people and cars began to crowd the streets. Seeing us however, created a frenzy. Out of my side mirrors I could see people running after us, waving and yelling for us to stop. Even people who'd been ahead were running back to the sound of our sirens and trying to wave us down, which began to really cause for problems as I had to swerve twice already to avoid hitting someone trying to grab ahold of the vehicle. Still trying to attempt to hurry, I began to lessen my foot on the gas though as I was having to dodge more cars and attempt tighter maneuvers.

Everything from then on happened so fast. As I'd just rounded around a few rows of parked cars, an oncoming truck was speeding away from the hospital and didn't seem to notice us in time to react. We both attempted to swerve and miss each other from having a head on collision, but still it clipped the passenger's side of the ambulance, totally spinning us. I felt as if time slowed as I watched the outside world swirl by as we screeched in a 360 before everything began to tilt and break. Any lights coming from the back cab flicked off as we slid in darkness, an even darker thickness rolled over my vision.

* * *

I don't know how long the blanket of unconsciousness laid over me, but it must not have been for too long when I could finally pry my eyelids back open to see our crash was still fresh. I was hanging heavily against the seatbelt that kept me from falling down to the passenger's side we'd tipped over on. The windshield had not been completely broken, but was so shattered I could barely make out a thing through all the tiny cracks. Looking back into the darkened cab behind me, I had to squint to see the stretchers were all but flipped over and thrown with everything else that crashed to the side the ambulance had fallen on; heart monitors were tossed, one even sticking legs up lodged around bodies I couldn't recognize yet. I could hear myself wheezing and gradually begun to feel my airways flaring up with the seatbelt pressed so firmly into my heaving chest, I attempted to try and readjust myself but groaned as I felt a sharp pull in my arm. With my other arm, I pushed down on the strap pulled across my chest so I could get my breathing back under control. I was shaking as I fumbled to grab my inhaler and shake it before inhaling, having to really concentrate on taking it slow. However, I wasn't allowed much time before light flooded into the darkened vehicle and blinded me. Hands yanked and pulled me hard against the restricting seatbelt, causing me to screech in pain at my arm being pulled. Realizing I was restrained by the belt, whoever was tugging me out unbuckled me and rather abruptly I felt myself dropped against hot asphalt. Looking around in a daze, when my eyes finally adjusted to the bright sun to see the back of the ambulance's doors had been thrown open with people swarming inside, taking all they could grab their hands on- even the stretchers they unstrapped and pulled our patients off from. Their was screaming and shouting from inside.

"Zhao?" I croaked, my heart was pounding so loud in my ears I could barely hear glass being smashed open to allow more people to gather inside through the front. Things were just as loud as I'd remembered them earlier, if not more with the addition of this crowd of people pillaging off our crash. There were no words I could babble to describe how shocked I felt at what had become of the street and the disarray of people in such a short amount of time. Trying to push my body back up, I hissed as my arm protested but I would have to examine it better later. I called out again and I saw the mob of scavenging people shove out a disheveled Daniel who was trying to push back through the crowd after his girlfriend but seemed too disoriented to get through far enough. Not too long after, I spotted Zhao stumbling out of scrambling hands, a cut above his brow smeared blood across his forehead and his clothes in disarray as he just watched on in the same daze I felt myself looking on with. My stomach was plummeting imagining what the state of St. Joseph's would be in if the street just a few blocks west was in such condition. People and blood. It was everywhere, covering every inch of the street. If it wasn't someone running (the opposite direction of the hospital I noted) through the overcrowded block, there were splatters of blood and carcasses. And oh my god, the _bodies_. All that was left of most of them, was nothing but left over skeletons of what were once people in puddles of mushed flesh and liquid crimson. Some were spared with enough flesh left on their faces to maybe identify a few. No longer able to control my stomach, I was at least able to turn to the side and heave what little I had eaten from the day. After a few horrid last dry gags, I sucked in a few shaky breaths to ease me out of my extremely upset state. Balancing myself against our crashed vehicle, I squeezed my eyelids tightly together and shook my head into my hand.

_This isn't real. This isn't real. This can't be real._

I was trying to convince myself this couldn't really be happening. Just a normal day without people eating people. Screaming, crying, _growling_, and gun shots began coming from every direction causing a few to scatter for cover. There was a screech of tires burning across asphalt that wafted so close and the smoke caused my eyes to water as sickening squelch of flesh and bones smacked against metal. I tried to muffle the scream that shook through me after a final crack and splatter against the asphalt close to me was the body of the girl with the bitten wrist, her legs splayed in odd angles and face busted open in her own blood and former light blonde hair now practically stained scarlet that she was leaking everywhere. People continued running around her body as they just rushed towards another wrecked car, mobbing it even while some were pelted with rounds. I felt my shoulder nudged a few times as people trampled past and let myself drift a small ways towards the crashed ambulance. As people began scrambling away as soldiers began releasing more rounds of fire, I could see the inside of what was left of our ransacked ambulance. The man with the ripped apart face and Daniel's girlfriend were lying as motionless as they had been even before the accident, the latter's boyfriend weeping over her discarded body on the floor. Not too far away, the dead girl's sister was also lying crumpled against the roof of the overturned ambulance, her neck twisted in an unnatural angle and her eyes glazed over. I couldn't help but think she looked a lot like her sister even in death. The car that had hit the girl wasn't too far away, completely flipped upside down from swerving too fast no doubt.

What really began to help spread the trickle of realization through me was when I began to notice just what all these people were running so disorganized from in the first place, the reason soldiers were open firing. A woman, I would assume at a first glance was just another somebody. Levi blue jeans, some Forever21 looking blouse and flats, she _was once_ a young girl. But as I looked, even from a distance I could distinctly see a pale face that couldn't possibly contain anymore blood from the looks of her dark protruding veins up her arms, yet they were outstretched and feverishly grabbing. _And her eyes_. They were shrouded in a haze of an almost whiteish grey, clouding any pupil and masking any kind of emotion. I felt like I was back home; at the beach where the edge of the sea lapped at my bare feet and wet sand eventually buried them in place with every wave. My feet felt buried as I watched this woman who had been running halt her original pursuit, and turned to kneel next to the dead sister thrown twisted in the street. It happened so fast, none of us had a chance to stop it. She looked as if she just grabbed for the first limb she could reach and bit a chunk from the girl's forearm. Hardly taking time to even swallow everything she chewed, this woman gnawed feverishly on her like one would to a chicken wing. Down to the bone. Before we knew it, a hand full of sick I hadn't even noticed among the flock of civilians ran to pick at some of the flesh as they could crowd around themselves.

There was a strangled shout and I could see Zhao from my peripheral view lunging forward with disgust as he tried to defend the girl's body. The man Zhao yanked away by his shoulder fell backwards to reveal his intestines practically pouring out of his torn open stomach when he fell back. A chill crept up my spine as it let out an inhumanly guttural cry and before Zhao could pull off another, it didn't take the man long at all to stumble back up despite what should have been mortal injuries and lunged after my friend. Grabbing onto Zhao's elbow from behind, it seemed to drop all it's weight on him as it desperately pulled for his arm. Yanked backwards so abruptly, Zhao was caught off guard when he turned back to be caught with this man's open teeth. I watched in dismay as this man dug his teeth into my friend's chin and tear off his flesh, pulling skin from up his cheek.

I'd never heard Zhao, the small and quiet witted man I'd grown attached to, make such a retching _scream_. I hadn't realized I'd been crying after him until the infected man took a deeper bite, ceasing my friends piercing cries into choking gasps as his jugular was ripped into and a fountain of crimson gushed past ripped vocal cords and ligaments. Feeling my feet begin to propel me forward and shove people absentmindedly out of my way, I tried to run to Zhao's aid but a hard grasp over my wrist stopped me.

Daniel stared wide eyed as he looked back and forth between me and Zhao who was rapidly being mauled. Shaking his head, seeming to have embodied himself to leave his deceased girlfriend, he steeled his gaze away from those eating my friend and pulled back harder on my arm.

"He's _gone_," he shouted over everything happening around us. "We gotta try and get back to the hospital!"

Helplessly I looked back at my poor friend's gurgled wails as he crumpled to the ground with the weight of another man bearing down on him to take his share of Zhao's flesh. Frozen in such a catatonic state, too paralyzed to weep I couldn't help but stumble over my feet trying to keep up after Daniel as he yanked us away. While running the opposite direction, it felt like trying to squeeze between a thicket of weeds as we had to push past people mostly running the opposite direction. A few times I'd almost been shoved down, but Daniel clutched my arm tight and steadied me yet didn't glance back as he lead us through the panicked crowd. Everything was in just such a blur of people running in all directions, I couldn't tell the difference between who we should be looking out for- everyone seemed to be bleeding in some way if not covered in it somehow.

Continuing to follow Daniel, I began to hear the cracks of gunshots sounding closer. Like swarms of fish, people ducked and covered as shots ran through the street again. Looking back, still being pulled forward as the shots didn't seem to deter him, I began seeing more soldiers and tanks trying to eliminate the infected amongst the crowd. What it seemed the military hadn't quite been anticipating was how many were flocked amongst the block. Those being eaten alive were relieved of their excruciating deaths as they were ambushed with bullets just as much as the people gnarling on them. This wasn't selective shooting I thought while witnessing this decontamination. They weren't planning to weed out those attacking. They were clearing out the street.

This realization seemed to spur some speed into my steps, panting in fear and ducking down with Daniel as we ran but almost slammed right into his back when we faltered so abruptly. Peeking around, I saw Daniel had stopped us from running into a man that might as well have been shirtless with only a tattered shirt collar left hung around his neck; scratches and gouges of missing flesh were leaking across his chest and abdomen in flaps of skin. His expressionless gaze seemed to fall on us at the same moment Daniel jerked me back into a sprint as we ran off to the side to try and outrun him. I screamed as I could feel it reaching right behind me, its jaws snapping wide while it groaned after us. We swerved, trying to zigzag the guy off our tail around another up until I was suddenly yanked down and behind my guide in this chaos as he whirled around to try and kick the mans legs out from under him. Effectively tripped, the man fell to the floor but just as quickly began trying to pick itself back up to crawl after us. Daniel had already yanked me back up and was attempting to back us away but it was still dangerously close to our feet as we had to hurriedly scramble our feet back from being grabbed. Swinging his foot out, Daniel kicked him in the face hard to knock him backwards enough to give us some time to put more distance. Our attacker was suddenly smacked away by an intervening baseball bat, the force of it knocking it to the floor before the man wielding the club smashed it back down over it's skull to cease anymore advances. We stared back in utter shock at having seen this man's skull concaved and its brain's leaking across the street, but our savior just panted and nodded back at us before continuing in the direction he'd been running. Taking the baseball bat guy's lead, I saw Daniel scramble to retrieve a long, jagged piece of glass piled beside a car who's windows were busted. Despite the sharp edge pricking into his skin, Daniel clutched it in his hands carefully.

"Come on!" His voice still sounded high pitched with a prick of fear,but he practically pulled me by my collar with the glass still in his hand, and pushed me to continue on running. It was sad to say though, our run was again interrupted. Daniel all of a sudden dropped flat to the ground as more bullets sounded out and I quickly followed suit, burying my head between my arms. When it sounded like there was a pause in their firing, I looked up to evaluate what cover we could run behind to avoid being executed on sight. Spotting an abandoned car that was parked at a running distance, I turned to tell Daniel so but was immediately struck silent. Stifling a sob, I realized Daniel's eyes were eerily open and unseeing, his shirt was rapidly growing an almost black-red blotch from the exit wound of a stray bullet. Shakily, I let go of his hand and gazed mortified down at this young guy who was quick to try and get us through this madness. He knew I was just as terrified, and took it upon himself to try to save us.

Jumping and awakening from my fright threatening to paralyze me, I gingerly removed the piece of glass out of his hands and ran practically half bent over in a crouch for cover behind the car I'd spotted, leaving Daniel's body behind like he'd made me leave Zhao's. Huddling against the passenger side door behind the car, I closed my eyes and prayed I wouldn't come across more rain of bullets. There seemed to be a battle of shouts and growls, men screaming and guns firing while the infected raged...but soon the screams seemed to soar to an even higher pitch. Peeking up over the broken windows, I watched with eyes that must have been bulging out of my sockets as the military themselves were being attacked. The number of infected seemed effected very little by the gunfire pelting at them- and _living_, breathing human-beings would be suffering from fatalities such as collapsed lungs, damaged main blood vessels, fatal internal bleeding- yet they were still walking and grabbing ever greedier.

While military seemed to be more focused on those enclosing on them, I took the opportunity to make a run for the hospital. Abandoning the cover behind the broken down vehicle, I sprinted up the street, keeping to the clusters of abandoned cars and road blocks. In such a petrified haze, I hadn't noticed just how close Daniel had succeeded in getting us to St. Joseph's when I already began to start seeing the familiar street signs directing towards the hospital. There were fewer people at the hospital, a lot of cars, but bare compared to the way we'd left it our last trip only just a few hours ago. There was no longer a huddled crowd threatening to stampede all barricaded perimeters into the hospital, I could barely make out a dozen or so soldiers scattered and running back and forth outside the entrance.

So frightened into my one-track state of mind, to just get to the hospital this whole time, I brushed past any thoughts of this suspicious emptiness and proceeded to run for the entrance of St. Joseph's. The automatic sliding glass doors parted for me as I darted inside but halted, thinking I must be lost when greeted by a bare disheveled lobby. Tables and waiting chairs were toppled over while a few overhead lights hung unhinged from the ceiling, even the front desks were empty. A scream startled me as the door to the hospital's staircase burst open and a woman dressed in scrubs ran with blood soaked completely down her front. She would have ran right past me if I didn't reach out and grab her before she could escape through the glass doors, her terrified eyes finally seeing me.

"What happened? Where-" I felt too breathless and overwhelmed by all these questions I was bursting with to accumulate coherent sentences. The woman in stained light green scrubs just sobbed and shoved so frighteningly away from me I released her as if she'd scalded me.

"I can't stay," she cried, snot and tears dribbling down to mix with the blood on her face. "I t-tried to stay as long as I could. T-they're killing _everyone_, I can't stay!"

Frozen after she spared me no other details and ran out, I never knew I could feel this kind of terror. _They're killing _everyone_! _She drove me crazier rather than answered my questions. I was uneasy of the staircase the woman had exited from, so I remained on the empty floor despite the elevator repeatedly dinging from the corner. Creeping past the security desk, I went the most familiar direction I could think of and made my way towards the trauma division of the hospital. Maybe I would find one of the other EMT's in our department, _anybody_. Papers, documents, even files were strewn about all over the floors, noticeably marked with splatters of blood trekked across the light tiled floors. My body trembled as I slowly staggered in a daze through the halls while bearing witness to the distinctive hand prints of blood smeared across the walls, different lights flickering off and on like uncoordinated christmas decorations that illuminated the crimson painting the halls whenever they flashed on. Gun shots could still be heard from afar outside that I could almost pretend it was just drills outside from some construction, but it wasn't until they suddenly cracked through the halls did I practically lurch out of my skin. Sounding as if it was coming from the direction I was infact walking in, the shouts were coming closer, spurring me to run back and hide around another hallway. Running footsteps pounded across the hospital floors and the scuffle of shoes squeaked across tile while I just pressed my back to the wall praying I could remain hidden.

"_Please_, these patients haven't been infected," I heard someone practically pleading over someone else's cries. "This woman- this _mother_ of one of our staff was cut from being trampled- she wasn't _scratched- _!"

This person's protests were interrupted as more horrifying shots resonated throughout the halls and I had to bite my lip from screaming with them. There were more desperate pleas and hysterical sobbing coming from down the hall, and I couldn't refrain from peeking my head around the corner and seeing what was unfolding. Soldiers had their rifles out and trained on patients and even doctors backed against the wall, and crumpled in a bleeding mess was a woman lying motionless in a hospital gown. A resident in blue scrubs was crying, half hanging on to another of her co-workers as they looked down in dismay at this execution while another doctor with a stained, once-eggshell white jacket was shouting and arguing with the armed men. To my dismay, I caught sight of the recognizable figure of Dr. Kuhn backed up against the wall with the others, staring silently but just as wide-eyed and unnerved watching the soldiers shoot more patients. It seemed as if she could feel my stare when her eyes searched for a moment before finding mine, but she remained motionless trying not to indicate she'd just seen me, yet her mouth gaped and quivered like she wanted to speak out. There was another shot and more screams from those facing the soldier's who'd become a firing squad. The arguing doctor flew back into the wall, the exit wounds from the bullets peppered across his chest staining the white walls behind him as he slid down them lifelessly. I felt so lost in this moment, I hadn't realized my fear for Alicia had me stepping from around the hall and she seemed to have noticed this when she shook her head stoically to stop me in my tracks.

This would be a last moment between us, as the soldiers then spared anymore prolonged fright and fired their rounds amongst the group of hospital staff and patients. Alicia no longer looked at me as multiple bullets penetrated her torso, sending her body to drape over other's shot before her. Holding back a shriek, I bolted to run up the hallway back the way I'd came, not caring that they would easily spot me and could shoot me dead, as long as I ran _out_. Before I could even run past one of the next halls, I felt someone grab a hold on my shoulder that yanked me back and into the darker corridor where the lights were flickered off more than on. I howled in shock and thrashed wildly in whoever's grasp dragging me from my escape, but a hand was instantly clasped tightly over my mouth to muffle any of my screams.

`"Shh! Olive it's me," a hiss chastised in my ear as I continued to fight capture. "Hey _stop,_ it's _me_!"

Opening my eyes in surprise that this person wasn't tearing into my flesh yet and was met with an unbelievably familiar face. He dropped his grip to hold my face in his hands but I could only choke on a sob and plead this wasn't a cruel illusion.

"_My God_- Todd?"

Disheveled, his face was littered in angry red scrapes and I noticed the collar of his shirt was hanging loose halfway torn with his large bulging sports bag slung over his shoulder, but he was staring wide-eyed and short of breath in front of me, _here_ with me and _alive_. I flung my arms around his shoulders, my face buried itself into his chest unable to contain myself from weeping in disbelief. He seemed to allow me a moment, possibly relishing in his own relief at finding me, before he pulled me back, quieting my gushing with a finger over his lips before looking around the corner he'd just jerked me from. My mind was still reeling that Todd must have actually listened to the message I'd left him earlier and actually made his way to St. Joeseph's, but I just nodded back limply. I hadn't noticed Todd wasn't alone until a dark skinned Indian-looking woman acknowledged me with a scared nod I could only return just as bashfully, I would have asked her name but quieted any introductions thinking it was best us all to keep silent. Todd turned back from scoping out the soldiers _still _shooting at the executed bodies, his breathing fast and loud as I realized he was clenching a rather hulking pistol in his hands, my eyes lingering to the finger he held over it's trigger. Any trace of light-heartedness I knew from him was wiped from his features to replace with a worried solemnity while he seemed to be deep in thought, his eyes continuously scanning our surroundings between clicking open the gun and counting his rounds briefly. I could only imagine he must be as scared as me.

"We needa find an exit- it won't be long till they come up on us," Todd panted, his eyes flashing with something I could only describe as wild. The gun shots I noticed had silenced from down the hall. I looked around myself in a panic at what that could mean and recognized we were near St. Joseph's insurance offices.

"There should be a human resource's office down this way," I whispered. "There's an emergency exit in her's I think. She might've left it unlocked."

Without another word, Todd nodded and pushed off from the wall, grabbing my hand to pull me in the direction I pointed to down the hall. The woman dressed in her dark sari shuffled in her skirts after us, when I glanced back to see Todd pulling her along with us I noticed there was a severe limp in his stride. I had been so taken away by finding Todd, I hadn't completely taken notice to what state he was in until now.

"Y-you're not..."

I could barely whisper past the lump bubbling in my throat, but the woman next to me seemed to have read my recognition.

"His injury was from an accident," she assured, her voice thick with a definite middle-eastern accent. "His motorcycle spun out, he's not sick."

"Oh my god, you came on _that_ thing!" I hissed, appalled at the idea of Todd skidding across asphalt. _Like the dead girl from the ambulance. _

"It was the only way I coulda' made it through the traffic getting here," he tried to justify.

There wasn't much time to stay upset once we reached the door labeled _Human Resource Director Dr. R. Brescia_, gripping the door handle with relief as it turned open. Before I could push open the door, Todd nudged in front of me with his gun outstretched as he kicked it open the rest of the way. We were stopped in our tracks when a head rose up from behind a desk at our intrusion. Dr. Brescia's eyes were familiarly glazed over and blood was dripping rather disgustingly through her teeth and down her chin as she looked over at us and _growled_. Before she could get up too fast, I jumped as a loud shot rang out and the head of human's resources fell back beside her desk with a steaming hole now through her forehead.

"C'mon, they'll have heard that," Todd hissed and hurriedly ushered for us to follow him to the door in the corner of her office with a bright red exit sign posted above the doorway. The door was noticeably an alarmed emergency exit, but lucky for us, every alarm in the hospital seemed to already be going off. Transitioning from the dark office, we were blinded for a moment by the sun and all the gun shots that had sounded muffled from inside the hospital were loud and _near_. When we could finally make out the outside world, we quickly had to duck back behind the held open metal door as shots were firing deathly close and even catching the outside handle. Crouched low with my arms over my head, I could feel Todd draped over me and grunting at how close some bullets panged against metal or ricochating. Peeking up, I recognized this was east side of the hospital, but I could also see off in the distance down the street aways people still struggling for St. Joseph's protection. But as I inspected a little closer, they were all in shabby shapes, practically tripping over each other and the closer they came I witnessed a few still walking even after being hit by the soldiers' bullets. Dawning on me these people were _not_ seeking any type of refuge and the soldiers weren't intentionally shooting at us.

"We're trapped," the woman beside me cried over the fire fight, crouched low behind the door with us. Todd was seeing our situation for what it as well; it was only a matter of moments before the soldier's from inside would find where the gun shots had fired from. Adjusting the duffel bag wrapped over his shoulder, without saying a word with wide eyed _fear _I'd never seen resonate so intensely, and skittered forward in a pause of gun firing to drag a nearby shot woman. Motionless with a bullet wound through her forehead, Todd dragged her the short distance of the way and I abhorrently realized he was using her to keep the door propped open. Before I could protest or even stutter out any semblance of words, Todd grabbed ahold of the two of us again and pointed us down the end of the building.

"We gotta go around," he told us urgently. I looked back skeptically and saw _these people_ lumbering closer- we'd be running straight in their direction trying to make it around.

"_What?_ That's_ crazy_!" I was crying, panic ripping at any shred of composure I was trying to still grasp. On queue, my chest began tightening and my breathing had turned into small sharp hiccups. Seeming to recognize I was working myself into an asthma attack, Todd held my arm with an iron grasp as he gave my body a quick shake and tried to meet my overwhelmed stare.

"_Hey_- you _can't _break down right now," he shushed almost harshly. "Just stay-"

Shouting from back inside interrupted us and Todd was already shoving me forward and urging me and the other woman to run. It felt like Todd was practically barreling me forward with his hand pushing against my back, keeping close to the building as we made our way towards the back of the hospital. While running, I had been growing fearful of one infected man who was closer than the rest and had picked up his pace when spotting us. However, a loud bang from over my shoulder put down the approaching man as well as a few others to give us more space and time. Shortly after, we could hear the surprised shouts from the soldiers led outside to follow with more rapid gun fire. Practically leaping around the end of the building to cover from anymore stray bullets, the woman beside me shrieked as another chewed up person ran in our path. Already preparing to scramble back for the other direction, this snarling _former_ human-being was put down at the end of Todd's aim, hurrying us to run around the corpse. Making our way through St. Joseph's back courtyard, we were running through what felt like warfare; loud crashes could be heard from a distance with the ever continuous cracks of what one would think was a fire fight. Helicopters, news and military, were flying overhead no doubt surveying over the quick destruction that wrecked through Atlanta causing me to feel so miniscule in this chaos. I wondered if people were watching Atlanta implode from their television screens like we had been watching New York City up in flames only hours ago. We were finally able to make our way through one of the hospital's back parking lots for staff, and couldn't help but try to look for my poor honda civic I'd almost been finished paying off.

Tunneling through the various chiropractic and dermatologist office or independant practioner buildings nearby, we were at least able to distance ourselves further from the death trap of a hospital but I was now heaving rather raspily while I tried to run alongside Todd and the woman he'd brought with him. Fumbling for my inhaler, Todd was now leading and practically dragging me along behind him while we weaved through the back streets around the hospital. Taking a brief huff from the inhaler, I couldn't help but wonder where exactly we were trying to escape to. If Atlanta was supposed to be a refugee camp, where was there to go if the city went south? Remembering the overrun soldiers from earlier and their screams, I felt a dark terrible wrench at the severity of this national epidemic. It wasn't just us looking for a place to hide from the army's crossfire, others were running up and down Atlanta's medical offices, cars speeding by occasionally to still try and to travel around wreckages. It was until I recognized we begun running towards the next main street when our route was abruptly cut off by a tank parked directly center of Tudor Ave's intersection with armed soldiers lined up shooting with their machine guns from behind barricades. While seemingly distracted from our presence, we bolted to escape more military slaughter, expecting nothing from this direction of the city. Continuously we ran into barricades with more military trying to subdue the streets and we were continuously pushed back towards the hospital where we _knew_ was a dead zone. We were all growing frantic and exhausted, yet with every person Todd shot down, more seemed to be trickling after our path's. _Signs that military were failing to keep the dead contained._

Eventually, Todd cursed when he ran out of bullets and quickly ushered us into a nearby alley while he dug his fist into his duffel bag to search for more replacement. I could noticeably hear Todd's shuddered breaths as he hastily stuffed the rounds with tremoring fingers, causing me to clutch at my own wheezing chest a little tighter, comprehending just how scared he was too. No matter how many doses of my inhaler I took, I couldn't get my breathing under control and was erratically hissing for any gasp of air I could gulp down my constricted wind pipe. My world tilted and I didn't realize I had tripped until I felt my hands scrape and grab ahold of the building we'd ran behind. A gentle hold soothed against my shoulders as I looked back to see the woman with us was trying to steady me and telling me things but it was too hard to concentrate on anything for more than a few fleeting seconds between my distress. However, I was pulled out of the woman's hold to have Todd shove his face into mine, so much so that the tip of our noses were brushing and his forehead grazing against mine. While I stared wide-eyed into his watercolor-blue gaze, he reached down and clutched my hand in the one that wasn't vacated by a gun, and pressed it against my spasming chest.

"Shh, shh Olive, _breathe_," he soothed, softer this time. "Calm down, _shh_, longer breaths."

Reaching down, he took my inhaler, shaking it briefly before bringing it up to my lips and pressing the plunger down for me to take another huff. Todd continued to coach me quietly to inhale slower and longer with his hand pressed back over my chest to monitor it's rising rate, eventually succeeding in calming down the full blown asthma attack I was just about to have. Although, when it seemed my sternum finally began to rise and fall slower, a raspy moan other than my own disrupted the temporary quiet. We whirled around to see a woman lumbering towards us, her hair in tangles and her body so blood drenched, if she wasn't infected we sure didn't wait around to check as Todd swiftly pulled me back up and pushed us to run further back into the alley. I desperately tried to keep a grip on my inhalations while we ran, reminding myself to relax despite us being chased after a _dead woman._ As we ran around to the back a building I no longer recognized, surrounded by various others looking just as unfamiliar, probably meant for practitioner and office owner parking. Todd shot the woman pursuing us, pelting her clavicle and throat before she finally went down after a shot to the face. Almost instantly after Todd's shots, the back door to one of the buildings flung open and a hand full of disheveled diseased-looking tumbled out as if beckoned by the sound of his gun fire. Immediately Todd began shooting them back, but just as quickly, more limped out the opened door as if we'd punched a hole through a wasp's nest. There were _so many_, men and woman alike in all shapes and sizes, but all with gnarled, torn, or seeping wounds and glazed moonshine eyes in common. Even as Todd took down one person after another, more just came stumbling after us and didn't mind stepping over those fallen before them to do so. We were being pressed back the way we'd came, but a cry from the woman next to me alerted us of more beginning to file their way out of the alley as well.

_We were trapped._

I knew that Todd couldn't possibly have as many bullets as people, and my heart dipped in my chest at the thought of our fates ripped apart like the other's I'd witnessed today. Instinctively, I reached out to grab onto the back of Todd's shirt and pressed my face into the fabric against his shoulder blades. Feeling tears dribbling down my face to dampen his shirt, I couldn't help but fear this could be the last time I could be close before we'd be ripped from each other. _The last time before we'd be mangled and digested. _

There were then several more cracks of shots that were no longer just coming from Todd, ceasing my despair to see a path through the mass of infected monsters we'd been trying to keep back thinned with the combination of another shooter.

"_C'mon_!" someone shouted and whistled sharply. "Ya'll make a run for it!"

Not needing to be told twice, Todd reached back to grab me and like a chain reaction I reached back for the woman cowering behind as well to pull her with us. Focusing his aim on the sliver of opening, we had several close calls with Todd having to shoot a few just before they were practically on top of us while the stranger covered him. When it seemed we made it through the thickest of the crowd, I finally glimpsed who had come to our aid from a ways up the alley. A man prominently at the head of his group was firing his own hand gun while two others were swinging crowbars to smash back the skulls of those starting to attract to their direction, one noticeably carrying a terrified little girl against him as he defended against the snarling infected with his other arm. As we eventually made our way closer, the group of men with the child were beckoning us to hurry as they began to retreat down the back row of the buildings.

"How much ammo you got for that?" Todd yelled as merged together and ran, pushing me in front of him as he lingered behind with the tall man to pick off those that continued to race after us.

"None once this is out," the stranger barked back with furrowed eyebrows, his eyes scanning around similar to Todd's as the two men sized up a way of escape. Todd eyed the revolver in the man's hands before shoving his hands back into his unzipped bag and tossed him a brick sized box that rattled when he caught it. Eyebrows rising in surprise, the two men just nodded in understanding towards one another as he began already shaking a few bullets out.

"Shit! Phil we got more of these sons'a bitches comin' our way!" one of the other men snapped as he bashed a woman trying to lunge at us from around another alley with the iron rod over the head.

Up ahead in the direction we were running towards was yet again being cut off as more limped in from another opening, like mice in a maze, we'd hit another congestion of cannibal corpses. In so much of a frenzy, we veered down another alley, _praying_ for some kind of break in these walls and a way out from the massacred. Light was shinning down from the end of the street, but it wasn't what we'd hoped when I realized gates had been drawn closed by someone to keep out more dead who were already howling frantically from behind the gate trying to claw their way through. We all seemed to stop dead in our tracks as the realization of how _deep_ of a trap we'd been caught in. Unable to suppress a sob of despair, I turned to reach for Todd who caught my hand just as swiftly, squeezing it tightly before continuing to pop off shots at those beginning to trickle in the alley after us.

"We can't just sit here with our heads up our asses," the shorter of the men vented rather harshly and looked to the man he'd addressed as Phil for some kind of solution.

"What do you want us _to_ do?" the other lanky man with the little girl draped against his shoulder yelled back. The little girl was shrilly sobbing as even she seemed to understand our predicament and the young man refrained from any more arguing as he looked down fearfully for the child he looked like he wanted to soothe her, but was too frightened himself to do anything but press her head against his chest to block her sight.

Looking back up at the man at my side, my lips were quivering against my teeth and tears had unnoticeably begun pouring down my face as our doom seemed to seep closer.

"Todd..." I didn't know what I could tell him at this moment. But he paused to look back down at my sincerely, both of us stared with an intensity into one another, and no words needed to be vocalized between us at how much we loved and would soon die with one another, any pain and frustration we'd put each other through in the past months didn't hold any worth in this moment. He seemed to understand the point we were at and his arms, like his resolve, weakened as he begun to slowly let himself lower his gun, concluding our possibility of escape.

"_**Hey**__!_"

At once we all seemed to jump as another _living_ voice hollered from the alley. Looking around, there was no sign of anyone who did anything other than snarl toward us, but when we heard another call, the man with the little girl was able to spot who as he pointed up at one of the building we were pinned against. We all looked up to see out of the various windows and metal railing balconies scattered amongst the exterior of the building, one was hiked open with an older, elderly looking man hanging halfway out and waving his arms down at us. Squinting up at him, it dawned on me he was pointing towards his own balcony- one attached to a fire escape connecting with the other floors below it.

"He's telling us to climb," I was able to croak and point of the latter of the fire escape. Immediately, Phil and the shorter man out of the group began jumping for the latter, Phil eventually able to tug it down far enough for him to extend it down the rest of the way and was already spurring the man with the little girl forward, I could've guessed they were at least related by how similar they looked contrasted against one another. Rather than climbing up after him, Phil jerked his head to Todd who wasted no time pushing me forward. I climbed quickly, the woman I still didn't know the name of coming up after me, Todd, Phil, and the other man of their group bringing up the rear as we narrowly escaped the reaching arms of the infected dead now completely swarming the alley now below us, but not without kicking out at the closest body's head from the last of us. It was a tedious climb to the very top floor for being already exhausted by all the running amongst chaos and the stress of being so close to death at the hands of the infected dead.

At last we made it up to the top, my breathing wheezed and rattled in my chest but the relief of almost reaching the beckoning old man gave me a few fumes to make it with. The man disappeared back inside to reach back out to aid the young man as they helped the little girl through the window first before he squeezed his long body through after her. When it was my turn to clamber inside, I would have thrown myself through if both men didn't reach out and help steady me safely through. Collapsing against a nearby wall of what looked to be a living room in this apartment complex, my eyes felt exceptionally heavy as I surveyed the room while the woman behind me was helped inside, her hands fisting her skirts up to help get a leg over the windowsill.

It was a salmon painted room, very traditional in it's way with pictures lined in heavy rows along every ledge and shelf with various figurines and plants, a small kitchen in the corner from what I could see and only one bedroom I could spot. There was a tv on and airing the news, reflecting similar situations we had just escaped from outside. My attention found another man watching us apprehensively as we all climbed inside, his face half covered in thick glasses dressed in slacks with a long sleeved shirt tucked under, seemingly untouched by what was occurring just downstairs. Panting in silence with a few sniffs from the little girl who was now in the man Phil's arms. His eyes squeezed shut as he breathed heavily against her hair, her face pressed to his chest as he exhaled in what seemed like tearful relief before he kissed her brow and I knew he must be the father. Todd sank down next to me and I felt myself crumple into his embrace, still finding it unbelievable we'd actually found each other in this disaster.

"Thank you," the young man formerly holding the girl spoke up first. He seemed out of breathe as well with his chest was rising and falling rapidly as an indication, but extended a hand forward none-the-less to the man who's just saved all our lives to introduce himself. "Brian."

The man who let us seek refuge in his apartment from the surrounding dead seemed well aged, his softer wrinkled skin sagged on his face and his hands that he extended to clasp the younger man and gave it a surprisingly strong, almost reassuring shake.

"And I'm Phillip. Phillip Blake," the man carrying his little girl stepped forward to shake the elder man's hand gratefully as well. "Brian's my brother, and this is my daughter Penny. We'd be dead if you hadn't done what you did."

Nodding, the apartment owner swiveled around and beckoned his other companion forward who came to smile tentatively, but only fleetingly before he looked back anxiously to the tv.

"Michael Coleman," our saviour introduced, motioning to his younger guest. "And my gentleman friend here is Milton."

* * *

_ Thanks so much to those of you who reviewed and read this story! I'm so sorry for the wait, I don't know why this was just such a monstrous chapter for me to write, but I just had to explore what went down in Atlanta through the eyes of my OC. I actually even wrote half of this chapter before the first chapter, but it was like pulling teeth wrapping it up. The next chapter won't take nearly as long to post as this one and I've already pretty much written most of it already. The charactor Zhao is pronounced Jah-ow in case you weren't sure. And so here is the initial introduction to the first nine survivors of the Woodbury group- and yes I have decided to make Michael Coleman a much more signifant role. I'm taking bits and pieces from the television series and the book Rise of the Governor's back story, but as you can tell, have definately added a few huge tweaks of my own. I'm real nervous about this one and it's accuracy, but I did actually research EMT procedures and a few terms, so I hope it's enjoyable! Love it? Hate it? Pleeeease let me know, I adore hearing your feedback!_


	3. Chapter 3

_"The rhythm of my footsteps crossing flatlands to your door have been silenced forever more_

_And the distance is quite simply much too far for me to row_

_It seems farther than ever before."_

Chapter Three

The night had gone by undisturbed up in the trees and eventually the last of the migrating mob of Biters had moved on. I was able to climb down from the tree I'd sought refuge in at first light and continued to find the rest of my supplies I'd stowed up another tree well west of where I had to hide. Amongst listening to the soft croaks and squawks of the wilderness I looked for my landmarks embedded in designated trees, three small little nicks in the bark, to confirm my bearings but small enough not to attract any suspicious eyes. On the way, I could begin to hear a distant whisper of churning water just a few yards up ahead. A small smile to cracked my chapped lips for I began to pinpoint my whereabouts, confirming my suspicions as I came across the thick blue vein of the woods. My shoulders slackened in relief that I now felt less estranged from the terrain of forest I was more familiar with. I was close and by the looks of the current and it's width, I was down stream from a retired camp of mine.

Before heading back to my supplies, I decided to follow against the torrent, observing it's crystal currents beginning to eventually slow and reveal the broad pool of distilled turquoise water it ran from. At the river's edge a waterfall with a tall display of cascading laminar flowed, connecting it from upstream before it tumbled over the rock ledge to crash back down and rejoin it's path. I dipped my finger tips to test how chilly the water felt and rubbed off some of the dried Biter blood that was too old to disguise my scent anymore. The first time I'd come across this little corner of the forest, snow had still been fresh against it's banks and if it hadn't been for the turbulence at this junction of the river, the water would have frozen silent. All leaves had already fallen from the trees overhead back then, and sunlight danced along the surface to reflect off whiskey dark water through naked branches. Though the sun's light seemed dimmer against the water this time than I remembered it. Or it might just seem that way now with the absence of my last companion beside me to enjoy it.

_"It looks like glass." _I tried to swallow back the lump bobbing in my throat as I remembered the little girl who wanted to remain camped at this spot after fleeing Woodbury. _"It's so pretty, isn't it Olive?" _At the time, I'd been practically half-alive from the morning sickness I suffered from well past mornings, and the bitter cold of early Janruary that forever burned in my bones. _Sweet Penny_, the little girl determined for us to stay _good guys_... bless her, she did as much as she knew how to help me through my obsessive nausea. The emotion behind her ocean-like eyes had been enough to lift my sickly spirit and smile with her, remembering the time I had given in to lingering here for her sake. Sighing at my drifting thoughts, it seemed there just couldn't be a day that went by I didn't think about Penny or Todd in some way. Merle's jibes from the other day were still fresh and haunted after me.

_ "__Don' got Todd to nurse ya' through them breathin' episodes of yours no more. Or anymore lil' girls to throw in fronta' ya'."_

But much like last time, I was still wary to linger around this waterfall, conscientiously aware it had a potential risk of attract the wrong attention so I had to be quick about this wash. Still faintly familiar with this location, I scoped the area over easily enough, checking any blind spots I could remember until I deemed it safe to stick around for the time being. I made sure to stow my supply bag up a tree nearby just incase something should happen I need only carry as little as possible to make a quick getaway rather than risk losing all my supplies. I could always come back for them if need be, but it still tore uneasily at me to leave behind the rifle and Todd's sickle, only taking my compound bow with a few arrows and some of the new clothes I'd picked up from the run.

Creeping behind the tattered-like curtain of falling river water, there was a secluded little cove behind the hollow roar of waterfall Penny and I had once spent a few days camped behind in the winter. Setting down the clean clothes with my bow and arrows along the smooth rocks shaped over time by the ever overflowing spring, I took a soothing inhale of the crisp chill at the prospect of seclusion from behind the foam-white layer of water that for the most part shielded any outside onlookers. It was as good of a secluded spot to bathe as I could get and began to peel away my blood and sweat soiled clothing until left in just a sports bra and underwear. I slid my body between the gap of water behind the shower-like downpour, hissing at it's frigid sting against my already goosebumped flesh and slowly lowered myself until my shoulders sunk below the surface. I wished my body would hurry and get used to the waterfall's glacial temperature, shivering next to small wisps of wind that fluttered from the stream's downpour, sending light mist to sprinkle over my bare skin. With trembling fingers, I began to gingerly rub away the dried blood caked over the unpleasant scrapes I'd received all over my palms from climbing, feeling the sting of cold water soothing their swelling as I soaked them clean. I watching the water turn a murky copper around me as I continued to scrubbed away at my arms and shoulders, relieving my body from the rather disgusting combination of layers of filth. Bucking up the courage, I dunked my head below the surface for a few moments to run my fingers through my hair, brushing through loosened tangles that flowed in weightless spirals around me until I retreated back up for air and plastered the now wet strands flatly down my back. I rubbed at the splattered blood encrusted around my neck and cupped my hands to splash my face until I could no longer wipe away any traces of grime. Proceeding to dip my head back, I let the rush of falling water beat down against my scalp and truly noticed the usual heavy weight of my former waist length hair missing, now severed just past my shoulders when I reached to brush my fingers through the jagged ends. My once long drape of hair I once constantly restrained in a long braid or bun, yet had refused to cut, was gone and at the hand of my own blade. I couldn't help but sulk at another part of my old life, the way things used to be, severed away from me because of these flesh-eating monsters.

While letting the dirt soak off my body, I grabbed my dirtied clothes and gave them a brief wash as well. With no soap, I could only attempt to get off what I could by rubbing at the large stains on my khaki colored pants and my (luckily) black shirt under the downpouring faucet of river rain. I couldn't help but notice the part of my body that had been covered under my jacket was for the most part clean and untouched by any blood or dirt. A couple months ago I would have felt myself washing bones under skin, as I'd become very malnourished during the winter with such little food as it was and my inability to keep in what little I did eat. My hip bones had once peeked through my waist and my stomach dissipated during the worst of months. But not any longer. That is, until it seemed not too long ago I had just one morning woken up and realized my stomach had discreetly rounded, beginning to protrude firmly below my naval, and it certainly wasn't from me eating well. When most of my intense nausea tapered off, I had gotten my hopes up that I had caught the flu from winter's exposure or was just too malnourished. But the day that small little bulge appeared in my abdomen, it was a crushing blow to the denial I'd held on to all winter. Lingering absently over the small bump, I sighed and frowned down at the evidence. Still only slightly noticeable, no one would know any better with my jacket on and it almost reminding me what my stomach had once looked like if stuffed from a large meal or after drinking too many beers, before the dead began starving the living. Although, this was now permanent, and there was no just sucking it in.

Amongst all the grudges I filed away in my memory, I felt the most embittered at Todd for not being present through this terrifying responsibility. I had to admit I felt sorry for myself for being all alone, and it ached at me when I thought about how maybe if I'd told Todd my suspicions about my missed period before he left on that last run with Merle, he might have been less willing to die a martyr for Woodbury's secrets. After coming together to escape Atlanta, we had connected so closely with the Blake family, Milton, and Michael, having survived only because of each other in that apartment. Todd had even extended his hand to rescue the half-dead and one-handed Merle on our escape from the city when the rest of us wanted to bolt without so much as looking back. Once past the obscene outbursts and insults, Merle had proved to be a man you wanted covering your back, saving Todd's and Philip's ass plenty of times- including mine. Eventually tamed to co-exist unconfrontationally amongst the rest of us, for the most part, Todd, Philip, and Merle formed a close comradery while Brian and I watched the group's progression from a more skeptical vantage point. I knew towards the end, it was hardest on Todd to accept how twisted his brothers had really become, clinging to a hope that he could pull back the reins on Merle's and Phillip's madness. We had survived with these men, shed blood and shared heartache with them, that it was disturbing to watch this new world warp their humanity. Through everything, Todd had a loyalty and love for Woodbury that pained him deeply when it turned it's back on him, in denial until that last day his brothers would betray him so coldly. I firmly believe when he left with Merle that last day, he was aware it was a run meant to kill him. It wrecked me with so much fury for days to know he had gambled his life so carelessly, believing he could save Merle from carrying out Phillip's sins. No tears escaped me anymore when I thought of that last week in Woodbury, most likely having cried my heart dry by now. I continued to rub my wet fingers across my stomach for a moment, still wondering how I would pull off surviving to the birth of this baby- let alone raise it in a world that ate the innocent and good-hearted alive.

Once determining this would be as clean as my clothes would get without any soap, I wrung the remaining water out of them and threw them to dry on the rocks. It felt nice to be fresh and free of the sticky blood previously encrusted all over me, but the chill of the rock enclosure made my body begin to shake again as I pulled myself back out to put on the new dry clothing. Pulling on a t-shirt, fortunately a men's large that hung loosely over my stomach, then a dark navy blue zip-up jacket that provided just as much coverage with my fingertips barely peeking below the sleeves. After rolling up the jacket up my elbows, I bent down to pull up a pair of black sweatpants over my still wet underwear. Maybe I would stop to find a nice patch of sunned trees to sit in and dry as I'd be cold and uncomfortable for a while until I dried underneath.

When I was finishing up stuffing my pant legs in my boots, I suddenly heard a rustling of bushes coming from the other side of the fall. My body froze in place as I strained to disifer what it was. There was no denying something was parting back twigs and bramble to snap in protest while small pebbles were lightly jostled and crunched under what distinctively sounded like footsteps coming from behind the wall of water. Any composure I had accumulated seized. I was a sitting duck with zero coverage inside if someone took the time to scout behind in the cove. A low whistle could be heard just faintly over the sound of roaring water- getting closer, alerting me it was definitely alive trying to remain silent. Saying to hell with my drying clothes, I balled them up in my arms, shouldered my bow and swiftly stuffed the couple arrows I'd brought with me through my belt, clearing all evidence of my presence. Wasting no time but tried to move just as lightly to keep from disturbing the water too loudly, I lowered myself back into the water so I could be completely in up to my neck. Waiting in fear, I began piecing together my plan of escape but I had to get control of my breathing to pull it off; there could be no hyperventilating if I planned to hide. _Be strong, be strong. You are strong_. Todd chanted through my head over and over as I listened to the approaching footsteps and could make out an approaching shadow at the end of the enclosure.

Praying to whatever God that might be looking out for me, I took a long breath and submerged back under the water. Clutching my clothes close to me, I held tight to my bow around my shoulder to keep them from floating to the surface, then began to pull and kick to swim towards the bottom of the pond directly below the row of pouring water. If anyone took the time to notice, they could only make out so much below the distorted viewpoint above the rippling surface. I closed my eyes and willed myself to stay close to the bottom and remain calm as I held my breath. There was only the muffled roaring of water beating down on the surface just a few feet above, but I soon tuned that out too.

Instead, I willed myself to remember the deep purr of a cello as it's strings were stroked from deep legatos and the soft, delicate taps of piano keys. Even after death, Todd still comforted me, and now while I pictured his hands the day we spent listening to Michael's borrowed record player laying in bed. That day, he had returned with the resource team and shut himself in our room all afternoon. He had been so fragile with this pleading forlorn look glistening back at me through arctic blue eyes. His dauntless iceberg-of-a-gaze that had consoled me through everything and more, were melting in front of me. He had yet to tell me why, but I could understand without words needing to be spoken. Cupping his hands around my face, Todd brushed his thumbs so needily under my eyes, as if _I _was the one about to weep, and finally shut his eyes as he rest his forehead against mine. It all resounded through me in flashes as I willed myself to remember a time I had been strong for the strongest man I knew. I had never felt more needed by another human-being, so I had let him thaw and unravel that day, embracing him to unburden his aches into me. For our whole five years together, I had never felt his hands need my body so much.

Unsure how long it now was that I'd been under, I began to awaken from my haze of memories and realize I was becoming lost in them rather than comforted. That disturbed me, but before I could think too much into it, Michael's music had ceased and my lungs shriveled up inside my chest as my body was trying to force me to resurface for air. It wasn't until darkness began to pull at the corners of my vision under the water did I determined my body was not just subconciously freaking out and I would need to go back up before I really did drown myself. If whoever scouting hadn't deemed this vicinity clear by now, I might face events making me wish I'd just drowned on my own terms.

Pushing off the bottom, I let myself shoot back up while kicking to the surface, my heavy boots making it more difficult with only one free arm to pull with. Bobbing back up to the surface on the concealed side of the fall, I gasped but instantly tried to stifle most of my heaving but my lungs were so desperately needy. Momentarily weak from the lack of oxygen, I tread my way back to the rock ledge and gripped on as I tried gulping for breaths of air. Surveying both sides to enter through the waterfall's cavern to see what I'd immerged to, I was relieved to see no one as they must have passed by. I set my bow on the stones and pulled myself back out, cringing as water dripped noisily off my now completely soaked clothes. I spared a brief pause to ring out the water from my other pants and windbreaker just above the surface to reduce the noise before stuffing them as best I could in my jacket pockets. They hung half out but I was too anxious to take the time to stuff them completely inside the jacket's small incisions. Pushing back dripping wet hair from my face, still down and unbraided, I shrugged off my bow and picked the opposite direction to flee the footsteps. I nocked one of the arrows I'd kept in my belt and slowly crept towards my exit, my hand already pulling back on the bowstring to prepare if I needed to fire.

The forest air was still crisp with a small clinging spring chill, but the sun was beginning to peek higher though the trees which was appreciated as I shivered in my wet clothing. I peered slowly around the end of the drapped river, my bow aimed downward as I investigated the banks and treeline for the strangers, but everything was clear. Turning back, I felt uneasy and the disquiet perturbed me almost as much if I'd immerged from the water with a gun in my face. It hadn't been just an animal, or even a Biter... there was a definite whistle blown sharp enough to grab someones attention and the footsteps had been much too quiet. Or maybe, I really was going crazy paranoid out here alone so long. I glanced back around and scrutinized the area over again, but still nothing in sight. A little irked I might have just soaked my new clean clothes and done some crazy hiding for no reason, but I had to restrain my curiosity to investigate and focus on just clearing out of this area. Clothes would dry. I could brush my hair out later. If I was right about the living coming up on my spot, I could wind myself in a situation with devastating consequences. It wasn't just Merle or Woodbury I was worried about, I'd seen other evils out in the world with a pulse.

As I made my way from behind the waterfall to disappear back into the treeline, I noticed before I slipped away how the brush parted just a few paces away. If there was a small group at the least, they could have came up on the waterfall this direction- or left this way, but there were quite a few tracks of feet leading several directions and I wasn't sure how much time I'd have to investigate. Licking away water off my lips that dripped down from my hair, I felt at a gamble on which direction I should take. I followed a section of parted brush and fractured twigs to figure out which way these people were coming from so I could escape, if that made any sense. Determining the steady direction they'd headed in after a few yards, I recognized they were in fact leading to the closest highway that cut close to the creek and decided to break off and head south-west instead. I'd have to wait making my way back to the tree, it was too big of a risk these people might follow me back to my supplies. But it just gnawed at my judgement and I couldn't refrain myself from doubling back for my weapons.

When I was almost close enough to the tree I'd left my sickle and rifle with supplies from the run, I shimmied as quietly as I could around a few bushes and sapplings but halted in my tracks at what I'd stumbled on. Behind the bushes, a woman had just been rising from a squat and readjusting her pants. Hearing me brush back a few twigs, she was startled and turned around to see what had snuck up behind her. My breath hitched in my throat when this woman snapped around to reveal a heavily swollen and protruding pregnant stomach bulging through her unbuttoned flannel against a long white tank top. The woman reminded me of a doe caught in an open clearing, her glass eyes wide with fear as our gazes met for a brief silent moment. Not missing her hands protectively shield over her stomach when she took a frightened step back, I broke our eye contact and couldn't help but stare at this woman's stomach heavy with child. It was overwhelming that such a fragile creature could be surviving in this world; she must have been at least coming up on her last month of pregnancy and looked dreadfully helpless in her condition. Like the night before, I don't know why but I felt my hand flutter over my own extremely smaller bump through the wet jacket. This would inevitably be me, and that _terrified_ me. She seemed to catch my own gesture, but I quickly put down my hands. Daddy might be close by, I thought reminding myself of the whistle from earlier. I shook my head silently at her, trying to will this woman to see I meant no harm to refrain from calling out for help like I saw she was about to do. I turned to run back out from the bushes, forgetting my hopes of nabbing my weapons, but found myself colliding into another body that almost toppled me over from the hard collision.

It all happened so fast, my head whirled to keep up with these jeopardous occurances. I yelped and I stumbled back from who I'd run into, seeing it was a man collecting himself just as quickly to glare back at me through the sights of a crossbow. Any trace of good fortune I'd thought I had from the waterfall plummeted when I saw this man was holding his aim up at my face, dark eyes glaring dangerously hard down the end of his bolt. He was taller than I, having to tilt his aim down from his own vantage point, but was not stout or hulking like some of the men Philip had taken to recruiting on the recourse teams. Under all the smeared dirt and possibly old blood, his arms extended out from a sleeveless leather cut stretched over muscles that seemed to comfortably hold the weight of the crossbow against his shoulder. The face that held mine in it's sights was just as filthy, his unkept hair matted dark against his forehead with sweat.

"You bes' stay put." It was a quiet rasp, but an unnerving warning that was dark enough to keep me from raising my own bow. With wide eyes, I watched him emit that same sharp whistle I'd heard earlier and knew he must be calling for backup. Knowing there was no chance of facing down more men, I had to ball up and take the small window of time I had before the rest came. My own heartbeat echoed in my eardrums, taking one last shaky breath to charge straight towards this stranger aiming down at me. It was a deadly win-lose gamble I was dealing, but that's all I had left in this world when it came to survival now days.

Lunging back in surprise, he hadn't expected me to sweep forward and thrust my shoulder into his gut like some lineman as I ducked to avoid the arrow he triggered instinctively, almost freezing at how close it had whirled past my head. Not taking the time to examine where the bolt fired, when he stumbled back to avoid me I took the chance to slip past and make my run for it. But before I could get too far, I felt myself just as quickly yanked back to see he had grabbed a hold of the bow I had clutched around my arm. Panicked, I swung around to try and knock off his hold but instead he just pulled back harder and his other arm dropped the crossbow to grab at my waist. Doing the only thing I could think to rid this male off me before the people he called came to assist, I kicked out and connected my boot into his groin, elisting a grunt of pain. The tight grip around my waist fell when he reached down to grip the afflicted area for a moment but this only seemed to infuriate him more as he kept his hold locked around my bow and tried to grab for more of me. Twisting in his hold like a snared animal, I scuffled frantically to keep from allowing him pull me down where he would surely overpower me and dug my nails deep into the hand grasping at my jacket. My nails dug under skin and drew blood, enticing more enraged shouts but _still_ he latched on to me! I could only think of one last chance to throw this son of a bitch off, and spun in his grasp to release the bow looped around my arm holding me back. Before he could reach out and take another hold of me, I bolted, yanking out the fist-full of my jacket he'd grabbed. I faintly felt a sharp sting slice my hip, but it didn't stop me from shooting out as fast as my legs could take me.

I didn't care that my soaking wet clothes weighed heavily on me or that my boots were loud and squelching against the forest floor, my only focus on this next escape. Doubtful I'd be able to outrun this man so close behind even with the groin injury I'd delivered him, I ran back to the stream. Running towards the bank's treeline, I could hear trampling of footsteps running through the thicket behind me, chancing a look over my shoulder to glimpse how many pursuers had joined. There were now two others; one man stared coldly down the end of his revolver that glistened alarmingly ahead at as he ran while the other just right behind was a bit heavier statured and ebony-skinned, brandishing his own gun in one hand and a firepoker in the other.

"_Stop_! Stop or we'll shoot!"

_You'll shoot anyways_, I thought paying no mind to their threat and kept on sprinting. If I could just last a little longer ahead of them I'd find the junction of river I could have a chance of loosing them in. I could begin to hear the churning of water flowing faster against the banks as I weaved around trees and bushes parallel to the passing stream. A shot rang out that brought my arms to instinctively shield over my head and protect my face from bark flying off a tree trunk the bullet had dislodged. The deep roar of the torrent was picking up and so were my pursuers as I barely missed another shot.

Deeming this a good enough spot as any, I burst out of the treeline, having to risk full exposure this close to the river. The water probably went up just a little past my waist if I stood up in it, but it's current was at an acceptable speed as I watched leaves and other debris fly by on the murky waters. I was already wet- might as well dive in for another swim. The thicket behind me parted and I whirled around to see both men run out with their guns brandished at me, the third following close behind with his crossbow raised to aim. They could have shot me easily at this moment, there was plenty of opportunity to extinguish my life with the lightest pressure on a trigger.

Before I could give them any longer to deliberate my fate, I turned back around and dove feet first into the pulsing current. Instead of steadying my stance down against the floor, I curled in my knees and let the river wash over me, leaving my escape up to it's course. After a few moments passed ducking below the water, I straightened myself enough to bob my head back up for air. Spinning back around with the water's laps, I felt the current couldn't be fast enough as I looked back at the men watching the stream take me away, their weapons still trained after me. They ran closer to the river's bank and I pleaded to myself they would leave me be and just save their ammunition. The water splashed me back around as it began to rapidly pick up in speed and I used my arms to help doggy-paddle with the current, hopefully carrying me now out of shooting range. These strangers could have run after me and shot me dead in the water, but they seemed to either show indifference or mercy on me as I still craned my neck around to see them growing out of sight. I couldn't tell if i choked out a laugh or a sob of relief when I realized I had escaped the living just narrowly, yet again. However, a new fear fluttered in my stomach as I looked on ahead at the river started to splash wilder and began to turn into rock-studded white water. I also began to realize these stones were growing larger in size and appearing more frequently.

At first, I was able to maneuver with the current around most of the boulders that were jutting out from the surface since they were closer to the river's bank. But I soon began seeing they were gathering closer towards the center as I looked on ahead with dread at the water propelled me right towards another one of the large waterlogged stones peeking out, seeing how roughly the water was smacked against it before passing by. Anticipating my crash didn't prepare me for how hard my shoulder was knocked against the rock and I just barely avoided my whole body smacking into it. My teeth clenched as I tried to bite back a yelp of pain before I felt another charlie-horse-like slam against my thigh by a concealed rock I hadn't even seen. I was spun back around but hastily tried to turn myself forward to anticipate what was comming, but a sudden sharp drop in the water caught me off guard and my body was pulled under. All I could see was white as I felt myself scramble to immerge back to the surface from being tossed around and at this point, panic was beginning to engulf me as much as the current. Finally I felt my head pop back up long enough for me to see the oncoming rock smack dab in the direction I was still being pulled in. The only instinctual thing I could think to do was curl in a ball back under the water until I felt my back slam right up against the hard stone, this time letting myself scream below the surface only to be knocked by another rock that shot piercing pain through my knee cap. I was lost under the tangle of foam, feeling my body yanked too powerfully for me to control anymore as I lost which sense of direction was up. Abruptly smacked from panic-stricken terror, my head swung back as if I'd just taken a punch when I felt another boulder scrape across my face. After that last blow, I felt myself go numb under the water, only feeling a dull bruising that pulsed with my heartbeat through what seemed like every portion of my body.

This was it, I thought with my eyes still wide open, seeing everything but yet nothing at all as I felt myself come down from my panicked state into a calming realization. Everything around me felt like it was flowing past me, still trying to yank me down into a fate I was becoming less weary to embrace, yet I felt myself at a stand still before it. I was going to die in this river. Not torn and ripped to pieces by Biters. Not tortured or raped by the living. My empty lungs would lull me into a sleep and I'd be snuffed out below the water's surface, just as easily as the possum I'd shot the day before. _And I felt at peace with that. _

Letting my eyes flutter closed, I could just truly let myself be with Todd now. My head tilted back as I tried to imagine the water stroking passed my face, down my neck, substituting as Todd's hands while they soothed away any my body's batterment. The way he used to trail the back of his fingers against my cheek and brush them down the corner of my lips and wander below to the peak of my clavicle, before he followed the same outline with his lips. I could still remembered the shivers his warm breath would ignite against my flesh to between my legs. Like the day we let ourselves just be together to Michael's records.

_"Well isn't that just precious."_

Abruptly released from Todd's consoling, a voice startled me awake to a doorway I'd wandered towards. Doused in chilling recognition, I wasn't surprised when I looked up to see the room's green wallpaper peeling from the water stains on the ceiling, or the framed U.S. propaganda posters collected during Vietnam hung nailed to the tacky, dark floral print. I could distinguish this was once my childhood home's spare bedroom my dad had eventually just turned into his study. In the corner, a stereo was powered on with the slow, lazy trumpets of an Eddie Floyd song crooning from the speakers. Amongst the room's clutter of maps and old photographs strewn across my dad's desk and bookshelves, my mother was hunched over in a brown couch I remember being told was given to us by my grandmother, and eventually thrown out. Looking drastically younger in age, I realized this must be another memory of mine, before when my mother's figure was fuller and her face less gaunt looking. Rhian Somerset was once a strikingly attractive girl I only remembered by pictures anymore, yet this was not far enough back and I could see the dark circles already forming under her eyes that would forever sink into her face; my mother had not aged gracefully. Like deja vu, it begrudgingly dawned on me which time this was between us. Standing in the open doorway, I was looking in at my mother spewing a thick fog of smoke through her parted, dry-looking lips resembling the pollution of a power plant like I remembered she was. Looking only mutely startled I had walked in on her, she just stared back from behind dark glassy eyes, her pupils so dilated I could barely make out a sliver of her actual storm cloud colored eyes. The pookie and lighter in her hands dropped limply, but not out of her grasp. I wondered if she even felt the heated glass against her thigh. It disgusted and irritated me that of all moments in my life to interrupt my memories, it had to be disrupting my mother's boofing. At the time of this actual occurrance, I had thought the smoke was just from a cigarette my mother was notorious for always having one lit in hand. I wouldn't understand just _what _I'd seen my mom smoking until a couple years later. There were no words exchanged between us at first as her inebriated half-open eyes just stared, her perfectly sculpted eyebrow arching up in a way that reminded me so much of my sisters. She shook her head back at me, choking on the last wisps of smoke as she tried to laugh away the stunning awkward tension, scoffing when I just gawked back at the woman I'd been convinced was wiped out in the first wave that obliterated California. Being in and out of my life as long as I could remember while growing up, it began to infuriate me she would be here now of all times.

_"Trying to get off one last time or what?"_

Embarrassed my mother was making her familiar jokes at my dispense, I narrowed my gaze hatefully, remembering her tendency to humiliate all too well. Rhian seemed to never miss a moment to make snide little remarks when she was loaded, trying to pass them off as if she'd said something amusing. I could recall when my sister and I began going through puberty, she had wasted little time throwing out the slut and whore remarks, especially to Nat who brought the most boys around.

"What are _you_ even doing here?" I muttered, faintly aware my words weren't muffled by water I thought I'd previously been submerged beneath. Rhian just snorted and broke out into a toothy grin.

_"Not much, _Babygirl,_"_ she sneered, teasing me with my dad's term of endearment for Nat and I. Rhian used to get incredibly jealous of our relationship with my dad and would throw it at us like she was making disgusting assumptions, usually after her longer disappearances. _"Just looking at my good-for-nothing knocked up daughter is all."_

My gaze turned down the way I remembered it used to when I was a girl. I'd just bear through whatever my mom felt she had to say, however irrational, and wait for her to hurry up and finish her rants. Nat on the other hand, would learn she rather defend herself when she eventually grew old enough to argue back, inheriting her own venomous retaliations. It just caused a longer and sometimes violent fight to erupt, so I would usually choose to remain silent.

_"Wonder what Saint Todd would think if he could see this pathetic shit, you giving up like this and killing off that kid he just wanted _so bad_."_

I could feel my teeth grit with building tension. Did I really have to hear my mother bitch me out before I died? This was suppose to have been my time to be at peace!

"_Shoulda' stayed where you had it easy, _Babygirl_. But if it was me, I woulda' took care of that shit three months ago like _you_ should've," _Rhian continued. _"Or maybe, you could've just kept your legs closed."_

Tears felt like they were on the precipice of slipping loose, but I blinked them back furiously having always resented allowing Rhian the satisfaction of seeing she'd made me upset.

_"You'd make a shit parent anyways," _she joked off-handedly. _"I mean, you couldn't keep that other girl alive for a couple days. How the hell you plan to handle a fucken' baby?"_

"Shut up," I bit out. Leave it to my mother to know just where to dig her claws into a fresh wound. "Penny wasn't my fault-"'

_"And I guess she woulda' been gutted if she'd stayed with her daddy then, huh? Please," _ Rhian snorted. _"It was _you _who fucked up."_

For the past couple of months, I'd felt incredibly at blame for the death of my very young friend, but hearing it out of my mother's mouth sent a new rage to ignite my bones and bubble up my throat.

_ "But now you don't got _two_ burdens- at least admit that shit. You were glad you lost that other responsibility like you'd be glad if you woke up tomorrow and lost that baby. From the second you thought about it, when your rag didn't show, you wished you'd lose it. Just like you wished Penny hadn't been dragging you down-"_

"SHUT UP!" I yelled this time. "You don't think I _wish_ it had been _me_ instead of Penny? And who the fuck are you to talk? You _never_ wanted to be our mom!"

My blood was boiling as I got to tell my mom everything I secretly wished I could have when she was alive. This insensitive bitch never deserved to be a mother either.

"_I_ was the one who practically raised Jemma!It was me, Nat, and dad changing the diapers and up at night feeding her because _you_ couldn't even stay clean for nine fucking months! It never mattered to you that you could've given her permanent damage or that they were gunna take custody from you, as long as you could smoke all the meth you wanted!" I yelled so loud my breath was running out.

"I tried!" I felt myself hollering at the top of my lungs that it began to scratch my throat. "I tried doing everything Todd taught me. I'm doing everything I fucking know how to keep this baby alive. I don't know what to _do_ anymore!"

I was spilling my heart out to my mother, freely sobbing in the doorway at her, yet all she did was sit in the chair and tap her finger against the glass that still had grains left to be vaporized. Unlike my sisters, I inherited the least of my mother's features. Except for our eyes. I looked again into my mother's piercing onyx eyes and knew I was looking at a reflection of my own; and it revolted me. I could recall always wishing since I was a little girl I had received my father's soft, leaf-green iris' instead like Nat and Jemma. If there wasn't such a nasty sneer sprawled across her face, I could have mistaken them for Biter eyes.

_"Like you're trying right now?" _my mother snorted, her eyes rolling back at me

Looking down at what she'd missed from the glass pipe, Rhian's clouded eyes paused up at me with a look I forever recollected, already anticipating her bringing the pookie back up the her lips and sparking the lighter underneath its center to allow smoke to form again. Not caring her daughter was watching.

_ "But I guess I'd be pissed too, _Babygirl._ All the shit that man gave you, bitches at you for a baby, and goes up an' dies on your ass. After he _finally_ got what he always wanted," _Rhian continued on with zero filtering and just scoffed at how humorous she thought it all was. _"I'd wanna go to sleep too _Babygirl, _don't worry, momma understands."_

Feeling horrified my mother could relate to all the deep unmentioned emotions I secretly felt, I subconsciously stepped back to recoil away but realized my foot wouldn't move as if cemented down. For a moment I could only just stare at Rhian bring the pipe up to her lips and hiss as she inhaled the acridic vapor. After she let the smoke dance from between her lips again, her eyelids fluttering as she sighed leisurely and smiled back over at me with an emotion even seeing for a second time I would never be able to recognize. Before anymore words could be spoke between us, I forgot how my dad had walked in on us and flown into a fury, yanking me out and slamming the door behind him. I had been left to listen to my parents scream at each other through the door, the soothing twang of Eddie Floyd's last lyrics ceased...

_"...Oh when your good love, good love, good love, has been a bad, bad love..."_

When I opened my mouth to call after them like years before, I was met with a sudden mouthful of water. Jerked back into reality, the door's silhouette disappeared into white foam and sputtered on water I'd just inhaled. When I tried to pull myself up for air, I realized my foot being stuck was real. The reason I felt suspended in place was due to the fact my foot had been caught in-between a few rocks tight enough the current had yet to yank me free. It was the river that flowed over me so roughly while I remained in place, not death. Yet. While trying to pull my boot out from under the cluster of boulders trapping my foot, my lungs screamed in my sternum for air just as frantically. My hands searched through the avalanche-like foam and hooked around my shin to tug back as hard as I could to attempt prying my boot loose. It took a few hard, despersate last-willed yanks, but the rocks gave way enough allowing me to pull my shoe loose, finally releasing me from the water I was about to let claim my life. Coughing out the fluid in my lungs to make room for air, I was able to latch on to the swarm of boulders that had caught hold of me before the current could sweep back over and take me further down the rapids.

With my last fuse of strength, my fingers dug so hard into stone that they trembled violently while I tried to haul myself up the closest boulder protruding out and continuously slapped by the passing stream. My arms were just too exhausted from the day before to pull me up as I kept sliding back down the slippery slope of the rock I tried to keep myself up on. Using my legs, I pushed up with everything I had, my feet holding on desperately to a few small indentations in the rock I'd found to keep me from slipping back into the pulling current. Every step up the rock, I couldn't tell if I was grunting or shouting, but all I did know was that my thighs were burning and shaking while the rest of my body pulsed painfully. When I finally had a hold on the edge of rock tilting out of the water, my legs wound around it as my head knelt down in exhaustion. Still coughing and gagging out massive amounts of water I'd swallowed, I had to tilt my head to the side and tried to heave out what I could back into the river. The lingering emotions of a thundering fury and the burn of old resentments still festered as my body began to surrender to them and sobbed against the boulder. My hands clutching tightly around the wet stone as my body was raked through by my weeping that synchronized with the river's waves.

"What am I supposed to do," I screamed hoarsely up at my mother and Todd to hear. "What the fuck do you want me to do!"

Only the sound of thrashing rapids answered me while I remained conscious enough to cling on to life.

* * *

_ Well here's another chapter for ya'll. I hope you enjoyed the intro of team prison- and I'm sorry for kicking poor Daryl in the balls! Special thanks to all who've read and reviewed, it's awesome hearing what you guys think and would love hearing your opinions on this plot direction so far. I know it's a lot of OC to start, but I promise more of our cast is definately going to appear. I apologize that this chapter was considerably shorter than my last chapters, they'll be coming don't you fret. And by the way, the lyrics introducting the chapter are from Transatlanticism by Death Cab For Cutie and the song described playing in Olive's flashback is the song Good Love Bad Love from Eddie Floyd, I'd recommend to give them both a listen to._


	4. Chapter 4

_"I noticed tonight the world has been turning_

_While I've been stuck here withering away._

_Though I know I said I wouldn't leave you behind_

_But I have to go, it breaks my heart to say."_

Chapter Four

My body felt battered and utterly spent once I'd finally been able to claw my way out from the torrent of rapids. Hauling myself ashore, I could do nothing but tremble purfusely, left dangerously crippled by exhaustion. Eventually I was able to crawl behind the treeline with a small spurt of energy, collapsing against the farthest trunk I could reach. There was absolutely no chance of me being able to seek shelter amongst the treetops in my condition. I drifted in and out of conciousness all day until the sun's light began to sink, casting it's shadows amongst the forest as I curled into myself to wade out the night. And what a dreadful night it was. Between my bones rattling under damp clothes for almost the whole day and my head a heavy weight every time it dipped with sleep, I was barely able to keep a look out for any approaching Biters or people who could take advantage of my very vulnerable position. Heavy with pain, my back protested just to sit up, aching to adjust myself comfortably after the beating it took amongst the rapids. Yet what ailed me most was the loss of my bow. That compound bow was the first weapon I had stepped up with almost since the beginning of the Outbreak, and it crushed me having to leave it behind. Todd had taught me how to shoot, and with plenty opportunities to practice, I'd been able to relax into it's aim much more comfortably than any gun. Sentimental values aside, the loss would now drastically effect my hunting capability. With the bow, I had been able to remain silent to the surrounding forest while tracking game and defending myself with quiet arrows, but now I would regretably have to rely on the rifle and Todd's sickle.

Absorbing the situation I'd wound myself in just caused me to grib tighter to the make-shift fletching I held close throughout the night, now my only semblance of protection until I could reach my supplies. Both bags were stored much too far for me to reach in the dark, so I would just have to make due until morning, without _any_ weapon but the sharpened bolt in my hands. I felt so helpless stripped of my main security and companion.

"_From the second you thought about it, when your rag didn't show, you wished you'd lose it."_

Leaning back my weary head, I sighed against the tree I had crawled to, remembering my hallucination earlier. My mother's taunts burned at me. Even in death, Rhian had shit to talk, even if it was disturbingly close to the truth. It was shameful thinking back to that first month I had worried when my menstration never occurred, I had kept it a terrible secret and wished for the best that it couldn't be true. From a medical perspective, I pretty much knew once the second month rolled by, but still tried to cling on any theories I could think of that prevented my period; I'd been exremely malnurished the first few months trying to get a grasp on survival with just myself to depend upon, it wasn't unheard of that a woman could have unfrequent periods under strains of stress and emaciation. I'd been disallusional. Even now it was a struggle to comprehend my condition. And to top it off, I was increasingly finding comforts from the dead, relying on Todd's memories to keep me sane much more often. _But was it really?_ I had almost let myself drown at the promise of being carried away in reminising, and that deeply concerned me.

Yet in the dark of the wilderness, all I could do was discreetly weep at the hopeless prospect this pregnancy promised and the cloud of smoke seeping through lips shutting behind a closed door. A pair of dead eyes leered back at me, muddling between pale sapphire and grey, the fog of infection sliding over the once lively shine of iris's in the dead of night. When I slept, I often had nightmares of Todd turning after his death. It was something I knew he was adament about preventing. Before my escape, I recalled gathering the courage to ask Merle the question that continuously plagued me since I was delivered the news of my boyfriend's death, if Todd had been laid to rest _permanently_, at least. Having been vague and only mildly discriptive about his comrad's death, it had been one of the very rare moments I ever felt Merle act truely sincere when he promised he'd made sure to take care that Todd was laid to rest peacefully. Yet that had never been enough to ward off the phantom who visited my dreams with his warped eyes now a blank dead gaze beckoning me.

_And oh, how earnestly I wished I could follow._

Thankfully through my battle of half-concious illusions all night, I had been left undisturbed to see another sunrise. Despite my severely stiff limbs, I was content to enjoy the bask of sunlight seeping through the tree tops above bathing the sky in it's soft magenta-gold glow. With the rise of the sun, my turmoils began to fade with the receeding shadows of the night and my spirits slowly began to thread back together while the forest awakened. Still feeling horribly weak from lack of food and water for most of the previous day, the new sun seemed to give me a gracious little dose of energy to begin examining myself. My back groaned something terribly, but as I bent myself over my lap and prodded gently along the knobs of my spine, I thankfully couldn't feel any bone fractures or slipped disks. That didn't disclude I hurt like hell, and my knee was just as banged up-looking swollen and purple when I rolled up my sweats. I rolled my shoulder to try and loosen it's arthritic-like stiffness, remembering it had been first to be hit once the river became deadlier. Examining my hip, I recalled the small sting from when that stranger and I were playing tug of war, brushing my fingers over my side only to feel a few superficial scratches. It dawned on me, he'd ripped a few arrows clean out from my belt, most likely the last thing he was trying to cling on to me by. My body creaked like I was trying to grind old gears, but for the most part, it wasn't anything I wouldn't get through. I gingerly reached a hand to touch my face only to retreat back just as quickly, hissing from the sting of a wound below my right eye but I couldn't see. Feeling the crusty scab of dried blood along my cheekbone, I decided to just leave it alone for the time being, seeing as my already small stash of medical supplies was miles away. I timidly pulled up my shirt, lightly reaching to touch my rounded stomach. I knew that I was coming up on the months I should be feeling the fetus move by now, but it was still just my stomach to me, without any emotional attachment. The baby was still an _it_, but that didn't mean there wasn't a part of me that worried for it's health. I couldn't recall ever taking any hits to my abdomen while being tossed amongst the scatter of rocks, so hopefully I hadn't caused the still very small life inside any critical damage. Time could only tell I determined, pulling back down my shirt but not before I stroked my thumb thoughtfully over the still foreign-like bump that had taken residence in my body.

Heavily relying on the support of a tree, I was able to eventually haul my legs to support themselves and stand, whimpering in misery when my sore muscles were pulled on mercilessly. With my fingers practically embedded into the bark, panting at the excertion I already felt like the process of dragging myself to my feet sapped most of the strength left in me. The knee I had bruised protested every time it bent, but I just willed myself to continue limping for the river, reaching out with my hands to catch the passing by trees to help me forward. I couldn't hear anything over the soft roar of the fast-forwarded stream. but I peeked around the safety of the treeline to make sure no one was preoccupying this part of the stream. With the water moving so fast, I deemed it suitable enough drinking water, carefully crouching down to cup my hands and sipping from the river. A sweet remedy for my cotton-mouth and dried lips, I dabbed at my face with wet fingers to soothe the cheek that had now swelled and cleaned the cobwebs from the corner of my eyes. Previously ashen mouthed and dehydrated, I definately felt a part of myself replenished, but the grumble of my stomach warned me it wouldn't last very long eiyher if I couldn't aquire it food soon.

Making it back to the tree closest with my supplies near the waterfall, it had been a tedious and slow trip following the river back. My knee eventually began to stretch out it's stiffness, but the rest of my muscles still burned exhaustedly. I continuously tried to make small windmills while I hiked, trying to loosen my starched shoulders, somewhat appreciative I had time to prepare my taunt back for carrying the beast of a bag. Tiny rustles and the echoes scurryied by in the trees, alerting me of the forest's creatures scurrying by right under my nose but could only listen on sadly with my lonely arrow and wish I had it's partner to catch me breakfast. Twigs and dried leaves crunched under my boots during the trip causing my paranoia to flare, I felt noisy but it was harder for me to step lightly with such an ailing limp. Reminded of the light footsteps I'd been lucky enough to catch when I did, I found them unfamiliar, unlikely from Woodbury- especially not the pregnant woman. _Or that asshole who stole my bow. _He must have belonged to a seperate group, one either sympathetic or merciful to watch over such a liability. My guess, it was just some other survivors who were passing through, scavenging like most from the highway. But that didn't mean they were any less dangerous, clearly showing they had no problem pulling the trigger on an intruder.

With such close calls one after another, I felt utterly spent and on the edge. Merle had probably reassured Philip by now that I was still alive and well out here so close by, no doubt aching to get their hands on me. The pelt of bullets from Woodbury, the arrow that shot right past my head, the shots from the chasing strangers; I felt a decision needed to be made about staying around this area of Georgia for much longer amongst all recent threats. Now that winter had receeded, I was no longer trapped by the cold and I felt healthier to travel. _I didn't _have_ to linger here._ As much as I detested what Woodbury had become, I still felt an odd sort of attachment to remain close by. When I first lost Penny, I had been so blood thirsty for revenge I had conspired countless plans against the town, refusing to be the driven off as their successfully repressed secret. Yet now, after my rage became less of a mask, I knew better I wasn't in any position to put myself at such risk and resigned to survive like Todd had wanted me to. My heart felt weak, I couldn't deny the reluctance to leave was due to some irrational need to linger near a place I had once called home. Where the last of our lives were together. I wasn't ready to leave Todd behind. _Not yet. _

The river soon lead me back to the waterfall, but I didn't take the time to enjoy it's beauty this time and just hurried to check the perimeter incase the group from yesterday had lingered. Coming up clear, I rushed to the tree I remembered I had stored my bag in, feeling anxious to just leave behind this spot already. Climbing the tree had been a _bitch_. My knee shook with protests while my shoulders seared, but luckily I hadn't stored the supplies too high and was eventually able to unclip my bag from the branch I'd buckled it to, pushing it to the forest floor and tossing down my sickle and rifle with it. Finding it much easier to slide back down, I shook out the stinging of my knee after landing, reaching back to carefully position the straps over my shoulders and buckled it around my midsection for good measure. Looping the sickle through the gun-less holster of my utility belt, I slung the rifle back around me by it's shoulder strap. Storing away the arrow, I decided it was best to keep the fletchings stored away. zipping them completely closed inside the bag rather than half poked out to be quickly retrieved like they'd been accustomed too. Maybe one day I could come across another bow... in the meantime, I'd keep them with me and hold on to my wishful thinking. It was a strain on my back for sure, but I proceeded to trudge on under the weight on my sore shoulders. Sparing the waterfall once last look, all the tragedies conspired here desaturating it's marvel and I decided this would be the last time I would return here.

_I'm sorry Penny._

I then began to make my way back into the depths of the woods; it was time I rejoined the rest of my supplies. On the way, I only came up on a few Biters, none giving me too much trouble that the blade of my sickle couldn't take care of. Even so, the physical excertion on my rigid ligaments from the melee weapon made me miss the easy aim of my bow, but tried not to sulk too long about it. A much longer hike than usual due to unpreventable breaks I had to take with the bag off my back, I used these times to snack on the energy bars I'd been able to take from the run just two days ago. They were tasteless in my mouth from such exhaustion, but I chewed anyways, in desperate need of nurishment to quench the shakes beginning to creep on me. I could only imagine how low my blood sugar must be at this point. After hours of scanning tree roots, I finally began to recognize a few of my markings, leading me to a more familiar route through the forest. Being a rather thick and tall tree purposely meant to ward off from anyone's sight, when I finally found it, I now regretfully dreaded having to climb that high with my body still feeling frail and bruised. Like the blubbering damsel I desperately still tried to repress, I tearfully struggled with such an obstable and my heart wrenched at how helpless I felt, alone and feeble.

_"I'd wanna go to sleep too _Babygirl, _don't worry, momma understands."_

Rhian's words from the day before whispered and disrupted my inner-turmoil, flickering a spark of desire inside to push past the wallowing and _get through_ _another mother fucken day_. I would not sleep, and my mother didn't understand a damn thing about me. Leaving everything against the trunk to wait for me except for the M16A3 hanging strapped around my back, I climbed with a determined strength, gritting through the stiff soreness of my protesting body. Able to build up a rythm of reaching, pulling, and lifting, I grunted my way up the trunk, ignoring any attempts to be subtle anymore and just focused on getting up. As I approached just below the bag, I strained to reach and unhitch the buckles securing my supplies, panting as I stretched for the clasps. At last I was able to unclip the buckles, edging out the way as the heavy bag was released and toppled from the branch to land unceremoniously on the ground next to it's twin. Climbing down carefully most of the way, when I was only a quarter of a ways left, I just let myself shimmy and drop the rest of the way, grunting as my knees and ankles gave out under my weight and was unable to prevent crumpling to the ground. Only slightly winded by the fall, I didn't care now that I was laid on the floor and heaved greatfully that there would be no more climbing. Wishing I could have just let my head fall back and drift to sleep, I couldn't just let myself rest out in the open like this and had to retrieve myself up off the ground with more will power than psychal strength.

On the way here, I had pondered what I should do about my camping situation. I had not the strength to carry two bags up any more trees and it didn't sit well with me spending another night camped on the forest floor. I than began unpacking my supplies, remembering I had picked a larger camping backpack that I decided to substitute. Rearranging the essentials; food, water, and ammo were squeezed into the new bag, compacted tightly as I could bulge everything together, even managing to slip the remaining grenades away, leaving the bricks of ammo on top. In my other smaller duffel bag, I stocked away blankets, clothes, soap, a tubberware of first aid equipment and other provisions I could travel with, yet afford to part with if I absolutely needed to drop the bag and run. I sadly packed away my collection of fletchings in the duffel bag too, not having a need for their immediate reach anymore without the bow.

Throwing in the last of what I thought could fit, I paused at what was left crumpled at the bottom of the bag. Unfolding them back out, I chewed at my lip while my eyes scanned over the polaroid I remembered stuffing with my supplies in my rush to escape Woodbury, my heart hitched to take in the last traces of a life I had once lived before the world changed. My fingers traced over the creases in the older of the photos, the gawky teenage faces of my sister and I laughing so hard with each other it pinched our cheeks red and crinkled, Jemma in front of us red faced from crying. Our dad had been the photographer, capturing us cackling hilariously at Jemma while trying to rinse gum out of her toddler curls with peanut butter. It might have been a little mean spirited, but at the time, Nat and I had found our laughter much too contagious while globbing sandwich spread over our sister's hair. It had been my favorite picture of us, at a much simpler time in our lives when it was just the three of us that mattered the most in each other's lives. The other photograph was old too, not so much that it was a polaroid but a developed print, still in just as shabby of shape like the previous. Grinning softly to see it was one of Todd and I, the two of us holding up glass boot-sized stines filled to the brim of bright amber beer while cheering each other with our drinks clinked together. This had been taken only shortly after befriending one another, progressing past the stage of meeting eyes across the local bar near the university every weeked to making the effort of aquintancing himself with passing by conversations whenever it was my turn to grab the next round. It had been a Beerfest theme that weekend and the movie's infamous stine was being sold that night. Convienantly we'd bumped into each other when I'd been inquiring about the boot, Todd exclaiming he was surprised to see a "small gal" such as myself was actually going for the boot, so much so that he offered to pay if I promised to finish one with him. Never quite sure if it was the brandy on rocks I'd been nursing previously, or the fact I did in fact find him quite attractive, but I agreed. My girlfriend at the time snapped this picture of my drinking buddy for the night with her disposable camera and I secretly decided to take this one from her stack of developed photos, bashfully keeping it to myself after the buzz of that night. The camera had so happens caught a brief moment of me eyeing Todd out from the corner of my eye, trying to smile back at the camera but keeping him in my sights. Todd on the other hand, had completely turned his head to stare down at me, the sly-like smirk and glint in his eyes hinting at a smoldering lust. This was captured at the very beginning of our budding flirtation and had become my fondest picture of us. Losing so many photos I had once dearly loved, I had managed to save and cling to these last two throughout it all. Swallowing back tears that welling in the corner of my eyes, I deemed them pointless and just blinked them away to slide the photographs back with what I still traveled with. Once everything was sorted and arranged the way I saw fit, I rolled up the old bag to shove in as the last thing I zipped inside. Hitching the backpack over my shoulders, _yet again_, I couldn't help but groan to grip the handles of the duffel bag too.

I began to make my _very_ slow trek north in search of the small community of nothing but abandoned houses, deciding to revisit after passing by months ago previously. I could have followed the highway, but as tempting of a prospect at a clear path without the worry of getting lost, I was still apprehensive about approaching the main road through Georgia- well aware Merle or Philip could be patroling and just waiting for me to make an appearance. It was a shortcut anyways, cutting through the woods rather than winding completely around, but I was growing ever wearier and wished I could've just picked up a car with fuel and drove there. While I walked, I took in the almost tiresome sight of the woods, my old appreciation of it's beauty worn thin as I grew worn of this life. I knew I couldn't live here forever. Eventually, I would soon become that woman I had stumbled on the other day. Like a ghost in the back of my plans, that swollen pregnant stomach gleamed back at me, an inevitable road block I would need to start anticipating. How was I to _run_? To _kill_? To _climb_, with that full melon-size of a life inbetween?

These thoughts were nothing but salts to the wounds my mother had already clawed fresh, but like every other time the topic grew too stressful, I merely brushed it aside and carried on with the objective of the present.

* * *

After walking all god-forsaken day it felt, I finally found the small nestle of houses, intentionally meant to be lake houses by the looks of them. It clearly looked as if the small community by the small body of water had been dragged through several attempts of people trying to inhabit the area. It was now left as nothing but a city of corpses left behind. Whoever had last been here had picked off any remaining Biters that lingered from their last meal, but also took the liberty of stripping this place clean of any and all resources. I didn't care to scavenge and just wanted to find a place I could rest my feet already, walking as a whisper but held my sickle ready at hand. Amongst the lifeless suburban in the woods, I chose a house that had the least dead bodies and blood splattered across it's front entrance. Reaching to see if the door was unlocked, I noticed blood was stained on the doorknob and grimaced to grip my hand over it anyways, relieved to see it did in fact turn quietly open.

Instantly my senses were hit by a putrid stench that overwhelmed my stomach, sending me doubling over to puke in the doorway. Finally able to get a grip over myself, I coughed what was left to heave and wiped the corners of my mouth, making to grab the bandana out from my back pocket to tie around my face. Attempting to just breathe in and out through my mouth, I tried to enter again, instantly greeted by the very loud buzzing of flies crowded amongst the room, so much that I'd been afraid they could be bees by how loud and how many were flocked together. Stepping through the house, I clutched my forearm close to stiffle the stench of what reeked up the house while waving to shoo a path through the the front room with my other. Like a sick punch to my stomach, I noticed why so many flies flooded amongst this room. Bodies were sitting slouched along the walls, each with blood splatters just a couple feet above each fallen corpse, all with matching bullet holes through the foreheads. Maggots were crawling from most, some spewing out from slack jawed mouths or out from under rotted eye sockets, flies flying all over and landing on sillhouettes hardly recognizable under the dozens of tiny bodies. And it wasn't just the decaying carcasses lying execution style amongst the room that mortified me, but the words spray-painted in red across the house's walls: _Only the dead have seen the end of the world._

I wondered if Plato knew just how accurate his philosophies would be.

Stepping inside and closing the door despite the rank stench, I proceeded to nudge over bodies with the toe of my boot, checking to see if each corpse was officially dead. Scoping through the rest of the house, I was greatful it was one story and met with various other bodies dead in the same manner as the ones in front. For the most part, the house was plain with only a few knocked over frames and generic decorative paintings, a vacation house no doubt, like most of the others around the neighborhood likely were. Sneaking towards the back, I slid open the sliding glass door as quietly as I could to slip out and take a gulp of outside air. But it was hardly much better, as a swarm of flies stuck around outside to roam around more bodies littered outside too. Walking further from the porch, I realized these people had a rather large, kidney-shaped swimming pool dug out and cemented under blue tile, entirely empty. I couldn't help but roll my eyes that someone would have a pool at their _lake_ house, but proceeded to step over the dead and look over the ledge at how deep twelve feet looked from the furthest end. Two Biters were wandering aimlessly around the bottom, most likely having fallen in quite some time ago by the looks of their extra weak, slow shuffling. Surveying the yard, it made me a little uneasy wondering how these Biters could've wandered in with a cement wall enclosing the entire backyard from all sides, but it seemed secure enough for now. Setting down my bags, I cracked the ache in my shoulders and arched my back to stretch before making my way to the step ladder, preparing to step down facing forward while keeping a hold of the metal ladder with my free arm to prevent my balanace from wobbling right into the arms of Biters who now noticed my presence. Kicking away their fingertips with the tip of my boot as they growled and reached for me, I swiped down with the sickle, missing the Biter's head from the awkward swing with only the echo of steel slicing through empty air to show for my swing. Crouching down a little lower on the steps, my fingers sliding with me on the ladder as I gave myself more slack to reach further. Swinging the sickle down again, I was able to embed the curved tip through the top of his skull to pierce the brain, swiftly yanking the blade back out before it could collapse and pull down my weapon and I with it. Kicking out, I landed a heavy boot to the face of the remaining Biter, giving me a chance to readjust myself on the steps while it stumbled to regain her footing and renew the pursuit. Slicing back again, I ended up hacking the blade across it's face, tearing open a huge gash in it's deteriating head and pulling out brain matter with the sharpened end after jerking it back out.

With the perimeter now Biter free, I felt content enough with the location I chose to settle in for the night, hopefully, _maybe_ long enough until I recovered. Setting to work, I began dragging the surrounding carcasses to the best of my ability and began piling them up around the edge of the pool, keeping my bandana securely intact over my face. These corpses out here looked more to be the Biter's work than from inside, various limbs were missing, faces chewed off, some even so withered down they surely wouldn't make the trip without falling apart in shambles. There had been so many I realized, they made a lap around the entire pool almost twice, I couldn't help but wonder what went down but was just relieved to position the last one. Throwing my bags over, I decided this would be a sufficient enough Biter barricade incase others were tempted to wander back here somehow searching for a meal and I stepped back down the ladder, this time letting myself land in the eerily empty bottom of the pool. Once kicking aside the dead bodies towards the shallower end, I was finally able to begin settling down for the night. Unzipping the backpack, I pulled out the couple blankets I had rolled up so tightly I had to yank hard a few times to finally wiggle it loose, unfolding the sheets that had been with me all winter and spreading them across the dusty tile.

Finally able to sit, I sighed in satiated relief and my body sagged into the cement wall I'd propped against. Tilting my head back, I stared up at the light of the sky beginning to glow dimmer, concluding another day. So exhausted, I didn't bother toeing off my boots as I bundled myself beneath the covers, curling my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs, using them to rest my head against like boney pillows. Too tired to remain aware, my eyes immediately fluttered shut as I my conciousness slipt adrift. But not without my secured sickle next to me.

* * *

When I awoke later, it showed just how exhausted I had been to see I had slept through most of the night undisturbed by the looks of a dark sky beginning to tinge with morning's first light. The moment of recognition after batting away the cobwebs of sleep, my hand instinctually reached to my blade tucked away with me under the covers, easing back into comfort with the handle back in my grasp. It hadn't been the most comfortable sleep against the cold tile of the pool but I appreciated it none-the-less. Sitting up, I felt feline-like as I stretched out my still slightly fatigued limbs, probably contributed from sitting all night and the soreness from days previous events, yawning while I arched to crack my back and stretch out the kinks in my shoulder. I was definately still sore from being smashed against boulders after already being dragged through the ringer from the run just the day before, but I was less restraining from yesterday and much more durable.

The morning was silent, other than the flies still hovering above, hardly a sound could be heard. We were surrounded by the woods, so the birdsongs could faintly be heard coming from the trees and I tried to tune of the buzzing of decay to enjoy the singing from the wilderness instead. Taking advantage of the quiet, I sifted through my bags to slide out the tuberware that rattled around various first aid supplies I'd picked up throughout various houses and stores I'd looted. Deciding to save the alcohol swabs for a more serious wound, I pulled out the antiseptic gel to squeeze a pea-sized drop onto the tip of my index finger. Feeling for the now itchy scab across my cheek, I carefully dabbed on the ointment, wincing as I could already feel the sting of the germy scrape disinfecting. I then took turns examining my hands, feeling how swollen and sensitive due to splinters I hadn't taken care of and allowed to fester embedded into my palms. Retrieving a pair of tweezers, I went to work picking out the hair-thin splinters and couldn't contain a few whines of frustration when some felt more like branches, trying to painfully dig them free or pinch loose like pimples the best I could. After the tedious task of plucking my hands clean, I grabbed the dark bottle of hydrogen peroxide to uncap and took turns tipping it to pour sparingly over my palms, biting my lip to keep from wimpering at the sting. Letting my hands simmer, I allowed the peroxide to do it's job in cleansing out the wounds. When it felt the prickling of disinfectant finally began ebb, I figited around through my bag until I came across the pair of gloves I'd found at Big 5. Grabbing the knife hidden in my boot, I flicked it open and proceeded to cut away at the ends of each finger until I had a matching pair to slide on as protection over my hands' scrapes and cuts.

Allowed to actually eat in peace, I pulled out one of the few remaining granola bars, chewing only to indulge my growling stomach while I examined the empty space thoughtfully. This _could_ be a nice little set up if I made my own touches to it, but I couldn't help but feel weary to linger here after seeing the way it's former inhabitants had been slain. This place offered too much appeal to any who came across this little town close to the mountains. It had too much potential of attracting others and I knew better than to stay. Shame on me if I let such an incident happen twice. But for the time being, I reattached my bandana and explored a little more inside the house. Picking through the kitchen first, the cuboards had been picked clean like I had already predicted, the refridgerator that had been powered off long ago only holding a rotten carton of milk and leftovers long spoiled in tuberware containers. There wasn't much to take from the living room either, all the dvd's useless without electricity to power on the tv and whatever remaining furniture was dusty and lifeless. In one bedroom however, I took in the library lined up against each wall as if the bookshelf should've been wallpaper, a few knocked over from who knows what happened here. Skimming through the titles, I was impressed to see the collections of Lewis Carroll, Edgar Allen Poe, H.P. Lovecraft, Irvine Welsh, Bret Easton Ellis, J.R.R. Tolkien... So many favorites I could spot.

Merle would've liked this place. But as briefly as that thought had flickered across my mind, it was just as quickly stiffled. There would no longer be exchanges between us. As much as I loathed the man presently, a small part of me missed the secret little distribution of books I would sneak to him. Merle would never admit it aloud, but he'd grown a fond hobby of reading the literature I took to picking out for him that I thought he'd find interested in. _Motherfucker can find his own books_, I thought bitterly.

Tracing over the spines of these forgotten novels, my hand lingered over the familiar title of the Bell Jar. Throughout my life, I could always draw a semblance of understanding for Sylvia Plath's writing. A woman battling through sufficating standards and the psychosis of solitude hovering constantly above her, ready to drop and enclose her back in maddening isolation. Thinking back on her writing, I knew the author's true back story and recognized it should have been a biography instead; either way, her detachment was now completely rational and understandable to me. I was unable to resist drawing the book loose from it's column amongst the shelf to take with me. Even if there was no Merle to suggest it to, I kept it for myself to read later. Rolling my eyes at no one, I scoffed at the idea of Merle reading the Bell Jar anyways. That sexist simple minded piece of shit wouldn't appreciate it aynways, I grumbled to myself bitterly, or at least would never admit so.

My eyes drifted amongst the various titles, about to move on when my eyes drifted to the spine of one in particular I recognized. It was a compiled collection of Oscar Wilde's various poems and plays. He'd once been a fond favorite of mine, remembering the days I used to take buses everywhere just to read and escape the constant uproar at home whenever my mom returned or I needed to escape a fussy Jemma, paying a dollar just to enjoy the quiet ride. When I cracked open the spine to flip through pages, one slipped out it's bind and fluttered to the floor. Bending down to retrieve the page, I was a little saddened to see the corner had landed in blood, staining the already worn paper. Skimming over the short poem, I recognized it was one of Wilde's obscure and less known pieces:

_O well for him who lives at ease_

_With garnered gold in wide domain,_

_Nor heeds the splashing of the rain._

_The crashing down of forest trees. -_

_O well for him who ne'er hath known_

_The travail of the hungry years,_

_A father grey with grief and tears,_

_A mother weeping all alone. -_

_But well for him whose feet hath trod_

_The weary road of toil and strife,_

_Yet from the sorrows of his life_

_Builds ladders to be nearer to God._

By the end of reading it, I felt as if a thick weight had taken residence in the center of my chest, enough so for me to fist my shirt over the gaping void while I reread the poem a few more times. Years ago I would have read this poem and told you it reflected on a more appreciative look on those who lived easier lives rather than those made tired in life, the _suffering_... but in this moment, I felt Wilde's words had morphed itself into a whole new meaning. How I longed to be the one sheltered from the splashing of rain... or the one to never know hungry years... I felt like Todd could be the man who now lives at ease, _nearer to God_, while _I_ was the one still traveling weary roads of toil and strife, building ladders and wishing I could be get closer...

Before I let myself wallow too long on this, I began folding it to store away in my back pocket before I even realized what I began doing and stopped mid-fold.. _Why save it?_ There needed to be a time I would have to let go of these sentimental attachments and would soon need to begin letting go of what was already gone, just like I would need to let go of these woods and move on. My life had to stop being a damn memoriam of Todd and get a firmer grip on reality. I had half the mind to shred the paper into tiny little pieces, but with a sigh, I could only unfold the poem back up slide it back inside the book's pages, closing it to put back on the shelf where I'd found it. I decided I should stop looking at too many books before I starting bringing them all with me and stepped back over the ones littered across the floor where they'd been knocked over off the shelves.

Getting back to buisness, I double-checked every room. I hadn't achieved much else here, only salvaging the sheets still on the beds, a couple tall candles meant for prayer, and a few mismatched colored socks left in otherwise bare drawers. When I checked the bathrooms, there was nothing useful that wasn't drenched in blood. There wasn't a body, but towels were left on the floor seemingly trying to soak up a mess but were now rock solid stained up rags. The shower curtain had nothing but blood splatters over it that stilled me from unclipping them off the shower-railing, the mirror disappointingly shattered off the wall over the sink as well. Turning to walk back into the front room, the spoil of flesh and the hum of flies were much more prominent amongst the dead bodies decaying into the floor boards. Attempting to hold my breath as much as possible, I shamelessly frisked the corpses for maybe anything useful on hand but came up empty-handed as well- obviously these bodies had already been picked clean of any weapons they might've carried before their deaths. One had a picture stuffed in his shirt pocket, a picture of him dressed in hospital scrubs and hair net holding what I guessed was a newborn baby, kissing the soft crown of it's soft head with such a touching tenderness I had to hurriedly place it back in the flannel pocket over his heart. I was surprised to find one woman actually had a few tampons stored in her back pockets. This would have been a fabulous come up months ago, but I now just left them to continue occupying her pockets. _I would'nt have to worry about these for another five months anyways._ And as if this house was trying to throw another fucking sign my way, after the next couple dry bodies, I found a pleasantly familiar sandwich bag with a crumpled up thin pack of rolling papers. Opening the baggie and taking a wiff, it was infact the spicy smell of tobaccoo- or some really bunk ass weed I thought amusedly. I longed to roll one up right now and light up as many my fingers would roll, fondly reminding me of when Nat and I used to buy Buglers because they were ridiculously cheaper than a pack. After adding them up we'd realized we got twice as many cigarettes from the rolling packs than pre-rolls. Just reckless teenagers back than, we used to play "hey mister" by the liqour store while Nat tried to convince someone to buy them for us. Dad had driven by and caught us at it once, remembering how pissed he'd been and dragged us back home very embarrassingly. What I wouldn't give to have one now at the end of what world I thought I knew. Regretfully, I looked down at the reason I shouldn't and pouted rather dejectedly.

"If I get you through this shit, you better appreciate what I had to give up for your ass," I tried to grumble, but could only softly chuckle, only half-serious. Unlike the tampons, I felt myself about to pocket the ziploc bag, but hesitated when I remembered I had just scorned the idea of taking tampons. _Five more months._ I softly smirked, recognizing I really was anticipating life after this delivery. There would be an _after_. I just wasn't too sure if I believed it myself until now. Stashing away the tobacco, I sneakily took the tampons with me too.

* * *

The rest of the morning went by pleasantly peaceful, only running into a handful of Biters while making a run to the woods for firewood. I'd been sadly retrieved a book from inside to use the pages as kindling until the dry wood begun to catch. Even after finally catching a flame on it's own, I still monitored it was kept low just in case but it seemed the deep end of the pool was plenty helpful keeping the fire concealed. Grabbing out the only pot I managed to still fit inside the duffle bag, raising it above the flames to heat it first while I rummaged around for one of the popcorn packages I'd collected from the run. Ripping one open once the pot sizzled hot enough, I spilled the kernals in and shook it around to distribute the seeds to keep from burning. Anticipating the pops, I had to just anxiously await for them to be over before I hurriedly took the pot off the fire once they ceased and listened intently for a few moments if I could hear anything I might have alerted my presense to. Hearing nothing initially, I still peeked above the pool level to see if there was anything, then over the concrete walls to look around and make sure no on coming Biters were traveling around aware of someone living so close by. Greatful I was still undetected here, I leapt back into the dusty, dried up bowl and proceeded to indulge myself with a later lunch.

Still sore and rigid, my body appreciated the space to rest as I enjoyed the simplicity of the warm, buttery treat melt in my mouth for a few moments, savoring the popped kernal before carefully, I waited a to see if my stomach agreed with popcorn before I ate any more. These past months, I had no control over what my body approved of or not. If the baby didn't like it, right back out it would go. This had ruined plenty of meals I'd worked hard trying to find, just for me to heave it back up and no amount of tries would get me to stomach them. Once the usual amount of time it took my stomach to decide whether to reject passed, I was allievated to find my body allowed me the salty treat.

Even in this brief contentment, I could already feel the wheels turning to conspire the next move, my thoughts already trailing to where I'd plan to go once I was healed enough, most likely tomorrow. The popcorn and tiny bit of provisions I had wouldn't last too many more days. Usually I supplemented my rations with the game I could catch, but now with the loss of my bow I felt hunting could be a little more problematic now. I couldn't really afford the bullets, and unless I was shooting down a deer, the M16A3 would obliterate the small prey I was accustomed to. Thinking back to the traps I'd spent so long working on, I wished there was a way to recycle their use but remembered Merle had found them and would surely keep a watch if I dared return. I just would have to start over I had to conclude tiredly, when I was back on my feet to travel, I'd take to building more snares. I used to hate those types of traps something terrible before the world took a shit, thinking them horribly cruel to the animals. It still saddened me that I had to subject my catches to such pain before their ends but it was one of the only snares I ever really got down while Todd tried teaching me, much to clutsy and impatient to construct some of traps he used to make.

_ Or you can take your chances on the road, leave like you know you should. _It was a pestering thought always in the corner of my plans, but a very plausable idea. I was arriving closer to a crossroads, and it was inevitable that I would need to decide on the path I should take. This day-to-day lifestyle would no longer get me by and I couldn't leave it till I became like the woman I'd stumbled on. However, I did not have a group watching my back like she had and would eventually have to find somewhere I could hole up from the danger of being disturbed.

While pondering these realities, a shot echoed out, stopping me mid chew by the sudden crack of gun fire. Then, a distant rumbling of more shots errupting somewhere amongst the forest, far enough away but not enough to ignore the storm of gun fire. It lasted quite a while to my surprise, making me wonder if it was a fire fight happening somewhere between battling survivors or maybe some poor devils had stumbled themselves on a herd. It was much too far east for it to be Woodbury, knowing the kept from roaming past the red zone as often as they could avoid it. The shots continued on for several more minutes, eventually fading and leaving the Georgian forest in anticipating silence. No other shots followed, whoever had been lighting up either quieting down or was dead by now I assumed. My jaw slowly went back to it's chewing once it seemed that was all I'd be able to hear.

"Dumbasses," I muttered around another mouthful. "Attract every herd why don't you."

Huffing at some people's stupidity, you would've thought the senseless ones would be gone by now. "_Should lock up dumb bitches like that still out there."_

* * *

_ Thank you sooo much to those who have taken the time to read this story and follow it. I don't think I recieved any reviews, but I appreciate the follows and favorites either way :]_

_ I know this chapter was just a fill-in, but I promise it's picking up, dun trip. Next chapter will be another flashback to team Woodbury, so keep posted! I'm super stoked to progress this story with season three's plot, it's just a mother writing it the way I want it to come out. __I'm also trying my best to not leave you guys hanging for like a week without an update, but unfortunately, with school work and tryin to make that moneh. real life just loves to get in my way. If by chancccce, anyone would want to beta this story, hit me up, the extra eyes would be amazingly helpful. I plan to definately go back and retouch up the last few chapters, but in the meantime, don't be afraid to shout out a review and let me know what you think. _

_ I did infact edit this chapter a bit since it was brought to my attention about some of Olive's wounds, so hopefully things were cleared up a bit more. Thanks RedAlyk!_

_ The intro to this chapter is from Keane - Can't Stop Now, a beautiful song that was the inspiration for this chapter. I own _nothing !


	5. Chapter 5

"_And now the kingdom comes _

_Crashing down undone_

_And I am a master of a nothing place _

_Of recoil and grace."_

Chapter Five

Madness was everywhere; it had seeped in through everyones television sceens to come crashing in through your windows and doors, the volume was kept low but it still seemed to sync along to the matching gun fire continuing outside. Footage of police attempting to control riots amongst the streets, mountains of bodies stacked on top one another in flames, shoot outs in the airports of those still trying to still purchase tickets to escape; all of it was hard enough to comprehend while watching it from the tv-screen, but I was more overwhelmed we had just been plucked from the chaos of it all. Shots continuously fired while we curled up and were forced to listen and waited for the raging storm outside to pass, trying to keep track of the government's progress from the news. It was worse listening to the screams. Difficult not to hear someone's terrified wailing echoing outside, we didn't need to see to know what became of their tragic ends after the strangled screeches would inevitably ebb in a concluding silence.

While the nine of us huddled in collective trepidation inside this small apartment living room, I was only half listening to introductions being exchanged. Philip introduced his friend from work, Nick Parson who also escaped with the family, a much shorter man than his friend, maybe only a couple inches taller than myself and stubble much like Todd's but with darker hair. The dark-skinned woman who had been with Todd when he found me had introduced herself very taciturnly to us all as Neema Chatuverdi (like Zhao, I anticipated this would take me a while to learn to pronounce), dressed very modestly in a black sari draped around her waist, one end wrapping over her shoulder but her midriff was covered by another blouse underneath and also hid behind a matching head scarf that efficiently hid her hair and her face below her eyes. Todd introduced us for me since all I could bring myself to do was stare at the news reports that had so drastically changed from just a few hours ago, the same day. _Cannibals_ they called them. Yet this was something _else, _something _beyond_ anything we could comprehend enough to name. This was _worldwide_- word had it China had been hit just as hard- and _unbelievably_ fast, Beijing completely dropping off the grid and it was now seven hours since there had been any communication between them. Rwanda, the state of Palestine, Israel, France- all other major Outbreak locations effected the most. My heart plummeting to hear New York and California added to the ever growing list of places failing to keep the infection at bay. The faces of the bleeding and infected flashed in clips, so unbearable to watch yet it was the only thing I felt I would ever be able to see as they muddled amongst those I'd already lost today. The terrorized face of Kate being dragged away, no doubt slaughtered among all the other countless faces I inevitably escorted to their deaths. The matching, busted faces of the sisters sprawled around the ambulance. Daniel and his absent eyes, bleeding into the street. Alicia's blood splattering the white walls while pelted by a rain of gun fire. _Zhao_ screaming as his face was gnawed and his jugular torn out in sinews. The remembrance of my friend hit me the hardest, suddenly feeling incredibly raw and about to combust with everything adrenaline had shielded me from now that it began to fade, leaving me in a shaking heap on the floor where I'd first collapsed through the window.

"Hey- she ok?"

"Yeah, she was at St. Joesph's." I hadn't realized it was me being inquired about until Todd spoke next to me, pulling me closer to his warm chest with an arm around my shoulders. It was hard to turn my attention from the faces on the screen, I had to rub at how numb my face had become, not realizing how severely I had been trembling until Todd reached out to still my hands, uncaring if they were getting his bloody.

"I have a restroom just down that hall there," the man who had offered us his home as refuge from the chaos outside piped in, pointing past the kitchen. "If maybe you wanted to clean her up. I can put something together and get some food in you all. It'll do you good."

I was able to swivel my head to look at the elderly man who graciously offered me a soft smile of encouragement, realizing his last comment had been directed to me. It was Todd who thanked Michael, helping haul me to my feet, gently steadying me when my legs wobbled under the weight of exhaustion.

"She's not bit is she?" Snapped half out of my daze from watching the news, I could see this time who kept insisting. Sitting next to his friend Philip and watching me skeptically, Nick arched a pretentious eyebrow and tried to exchange a look with his pal who had also found a seat against a nearby wall with his daughter in his lap. Remembering the panic towards those infected, I felt myself shy back at this man's suspicion, unconciously edging closer to Todd who also tightened his grip on me. Both his brother companions seemed to look more sympathetic, the father of the group giving his friend a reapproachful look around his daughter's head he continued to craddle against him, the girl still flinching every so often at the explosions outside.

"Nah, she's not," Todd replied tight-lipped. It was then the veiled-woman Todd had found me with spoke up.

"Do you have any first-aid? Bandages at least?" she asked, indicating to Todd's scuffed up condition. "He could do with some cleaning up too."

"Of course, of course, Betty- my wife, she kept a kit below the sink," Michael informed. "Though we aren't the most prepared I'm afraid."

"It'll work, thank you." Steering me carefully by the shoulders, I staggered over my feet at first but allowed Todd to direct me towards Michael's bathroom.

"Do you need help?" Neema called after us. "She's in shock. And you look half-dead on your feet yourself."

I felt Todd pause, surprised that he actually turned to slowly nod back in agreement. "Yeah... Thanks Neema, I'd appreciate it."

As I was aided into the rest room, I couldn't help but begin to examine Todd much closer than I was able to during our whirlwind of an escape. Only barely aware I was being sat down on the edge of a bath tub, I was paying more attention to the state of Todd's arm and leg. The denim of his pants were ripped up on one side, blood also seeping through a rip over his knee, and his shirt sleeve completely torn and missing while alabaster skin was scraped off all up his forearm, marring the flesh an angry, enflammed vermilion. My gaze was rapidly raking over his whole appearance in panic that I barely registered calloused hands on my face, steering my eyes away to meet the piercing icicle-like iris's that soothed me through the warm tremors I felt clam over me. Todd's face was battered up too, one of his eyebrows obviously had bled quite a lot and was now dried down the side of his face. Seating himself down on the toliet seat next to me, he grunted at the pain it caused him to sit but just grinned and blinked sheepishly back at me. My teeth were chattering too much behind my lips, trembling far too intensely to smile back and share his relief without bursting into a weeping mess. Not knowing how else to stop the shaking, I instinctively reached for my inhaler still in my jacket's breast pocket. Seeing my struggle to fumble with the botton, Todd reached down to cover my hand with his, the corners of his mouth downturned now in concern.

"You're- my god... are you-" For the life of me, I just couldn't talk through the lump I had to keep gulping back, hiccuping on a few breaths as I clenched Todd's hand tighter.

"It's ok. I'm ok," he hushed me, beginning to push my loose bangs from my face and helped me pull out my inhaler, keeping his hand over mine to steady it as I took a long inhale of medication. I hadn't noticed the woman in the bathroom with us had been soaking a wash cloth in the sink, now coming to kneel down in front of me. Todd let his hands drift away so she could dab the cloth against my face but I couldn't help but flinch at her sudden approaching hand. I bashfully muttered an apology but Neema seemed undetered, she just smiled back reassuringly and tried again, approaching slower this time as I allowed her to wipe it gently over my cheeks. When I saw her retreat the cloth to switch to a cleaner side, I was shocked to see how much blood coated the wet rag. I reached in shock to feel for what was bleeding but Todd just eased them back down to allow Neema to continue wiping my face.

"You're a right mess, but it doesn't appear to be from you," she assured, surprising me with her dormant humor. "Let's wash this off shall me?" Taking in her helpful nurturement, I saw she was indeed a beautiful woman. Staring back at me with such dark, stunning almond-shaped eyes and a pretty smile that curved her carmel-colored lips. Yet it was all of her I could see, the promise of matching dark locks hidden beneath the scarf drapped over the curve of her neck down her neckline and around her head. Looking between Todd still holding my hands, she tenatively patted my hand before getting up to re-wet the towel.

"She's a pretty one under all this," she commented to Todd who smirked over at her, his eyes twinkling back to me. Walking back to finish cleaning me up, she continued to wash the blood I had been unaware I'd been running around with this whole time. "Explains what he was limping all over Atlanta for."

Looking back to the man I still couldn't believe I'd actually found amongst the madness of it all, my eyes burned at remembering I had thought he could have been just another face devoured amongst the crowd of infected. Todd seemed to notice this as he squeezed my hand with his less injured arm.

"Crazy shit was going down back at home too," he began to explain.

"People rioting in the streets, no one could get anywhere. Calls stopped going through for everyone but I was able to get a signal long enough to hear your voicemail. So I took the bike to get here, was practically here too when someone-" he glanced over at Neema who seemed to tense at this and looked down at her feet and away from us as he continued more carefully, "Got the same idea an' pulled out in front of me on the shoulder, hadda swerve to miss 'em and ate shit."

It felt a whole other life time ago I remembered leaving that voicemail for Todd to come to Atlanta. _How fucking clueless I'd been, just another sheep following what we were all told._ However resentful I felt, I couldn't help still having no regrets staying, even amongst the mass murdering epidemic. If only we could've had more time, been more organized- or _knew_ just what the fuck this _was_... Maybe if we could have been better prepared, less lives could have been literally_ ripped to shred and ruined_.

"I didn't know how I'd find you," was all I could say before my voice already started cracking, my bottom lip shuddering as I sniffed back tears bombarding me. Todd nodded, leaning over to plant a kiss above my brow, sighing heavily into my hair.

"Me too," he whispered, pulling back and I could see his adam's apple bobbing in his throat, seemingly just as choked up. "I- when we saw what happened to the hospital... I didn't know _how_ I'd find you."

"Everything just happened so fast," I breathed, hunching over from my seat on the bath tub to rest my elbows on my knees, burying my face in my hands to rub my eyelids against the continuous flashes of dead. "It was just one big panic... and then I came back and everyone was just _gone_. Soldiers shooting people down in the streets- and at the CDC- _Zhao_-"

The guilt of just leaving behind my wailing friend in my haste to flee with Daniel was overwhelming when I had the chance to finally comprehend everything. I glanced up from behind my hands to see Todd just staring back looking at a loss for words, his eyebrows burrowed while he glanced down at his feet and ran a hand over his own face. Zhao had been my friend, but that didn't mean Todd hadn't grown a fondness for the Chinese man while getting to know him; remembering the times Todd used to tease my friend before he was amusedly put in place by Zhao's sharp wit, playing off my boyfriend's prodding with his notorious sarcasm. My poor friend was now just another body amongst the streets, his blood spilt in an ocean of infected somewhere on a street...

We had all gone quiet for a while, none of us really knowing what to say to one another, our thoughts a million places elsewhere. Neema went on to look in the cupboard under the sink, pulling out the small first aid kit. Michael hadn't been lying when he said they were unprepared, but luckily there were cotton swaps and antiseptic at least. I joined Neema with over-seeing to Todd's wounds, trying to concentrate on something other than dead faces. His shirt was already ripped up and half hanging off his shoulder, so we gently helped him the rest of the way out of his shirt. I noticed out of the corner of me eye, Neema's eyes flickering down to her sandals, looking suddenly uncomfortable and seemed to be debating with herself whether she had thought through offering up her assistance. I realized this was probably extremely improper for her, conflicting with her modesty no doubt. In complete honesty, I knew very little about her culture and understood it even less, but was aware enough by the look of her long skirt and cloaked upper body she was mindfully conservative.

"Thank you." Reaching for the first aid box, I was able to curve the corners of my mouth up to smile, offering to alleviate her. "I can do the gross part."

Nodding her head silently, still avoiding our eyes she let me take the supplies, pulling up the shawl back over her face before she closed the bathroom door quietly behind her. I went to work squirting out Michael's small container of antiseptic to begin what looked to be a long process of disinfecting Todd's long skids marks across his flesh. Using the cotton swabs, I gently dabbed the gel over the open abrasions down his side, wincing apologetically as he flinched but just sighed and reserved to gritting his teeth through the pain while I repeated the process of rolling the swab down his side that looked the most enflammed.

"Her husband was the car that I almost hit," he finally said quietly. "We helped each other get to the city."

Not needing to ask why it was only Neema still with him, I just nodded and grabbed for another cotton swab, throwing out the already dirty, old one after only a few swabs. While applying more of the gel disinfectant to his arm, I kept in mind I had to use these sparagingly for his leg still until I was interupted out of my thoughts when a sudden shuddering exhale startled me. Todd was continously rubbing his hand over his face, a tactic I knew stemmed his the flow of tears if ever they shed. Sniffing, he looked up to stare at the bathroom wall across the room with red eyes, coughing awkwardly while reaching to swipe at his nose.

"I never saw a man die like I did today," he eventually breathed, catching himself after a moment before he looked painfully back at me. "I'm sorry- Christ, I can't imagine what you've- "

Nodding, I was uncomfortable under his sympathetic stare, but a knock on the door saved me. Todd eventually relented trying to meet my gaze and called for whoever had interupted to come in. Michael peeked in through the door, opening it completely after making sure he hadn't interrupted something too intimate, seeing the hesitant man he'd introdued as Milton trailing behind him in the doorway, eyeing up Todd's injury like he was critiquing the way I was treating him.

"Just checking in," the older man assured. "Milton's a doctor if your fellow needs looking at."

"Yes, I-I'm a respiration therapist- and I would've advised to disinfect the abrasion with that hydrogen peroxide first before the antiseptic if you want to reduce his chance of infection," he interjected, glancing towards the bottle of peroxide Neema had previously placed on the sink.

"You could if you wanted it to take longer to heal," I found myself instinctively defending. "His epidermis _and _dermis have been scraped clean off, you'd flush out what little good tissue he's got left."

This seemed to surprise the other men in the room, Milton's pale boy-ish cheeks flushing as he seemed too tenative to comment back. I guility hushed myself after I heard what I'd just said, a little embarrassed I was so rude to him just offering his services.

"She's an EMT," Todd explained, inspecting his gooed up arm. "Feels 'aight to me, don't gotta get technical about it I figure."

Shaking my head, I grabbed his arm gently to still him so I could finish up his arm to start bandaging it up and taping gauze up his side.

"You're lucky you didn't scrape off anymore of your brain," I scolded, recieving a snort.

"I was wearing my helmet this time?" he offered, a small grin pinching sneakily across his mouth at his poking fun about other accidents of his he'd scared me nearly half to death as well. The room collectively chuckled except for me, Milton timidly joining in but seemed just as speculative of Todd's perspective on his accident. Once I was done carefully weaving Todd's arm up in gauze, my attention turned to his tattered up bloody pants.

"How'd you two hole up together?" Todd asked, gesturing between the old man and his much younger, nervous companion.

"Milton here looks in on me, bless him," Mr. Coleman told us, beaming amusedly at the doctor's disgruntlement of attention spotlighting on him. "He was my doctor back when I had TB pretty severely- became more of a checker opponent is more like it."

Laughing lightly himself at Mr. Coleman's telling, he nodded in confirmation and adjusted the heavy glasses back up his nose. "Yes... I only live a few blocks away. When all this began happening I-I thought it best to check up on Mr. Coleman-"

"Milton, _please_," the older man interrupted a bit exasperatedly. "After all this time, I tell you it's _Michael_. And that goes for the rest of you as well."

Appreciating the friendliness from these strangers, but we were all disrupted by a particularly loud explosion from outside that even shook the walls of the bathroom before it eventually calmed into more distant rumbles of gun fire. Trying to keep from flinching too often from the war going on outside these walls, I was able to finally finish tieing off Todd's arm.

"Alright, well unless you wanna help me with his pants off, I think I've got it covered," I breathed tiredly, but looked over to smile thankfully to the men still standing observing in the doorway. "But thank you for offering."

Todd smirked and glanced up expectantly, Michael just nodded, taking the hint to back out and shut the door behind him. As Todd struggled to gingerly sit up to begin unbuckling his belt, I noticed his grimaces of pain.

"Here, lemme help," I murmered, reaching to carefully help him slide his jeans down over the scrapes he'd recieved through the denim. Hissing as the material pulled at the raw flesh, he breathed a shaky laugh past his discomfort.

"Y'know, under different circumstances, I'd appreciate this a lot differently," he tried to joke.

Scoffing, I couldn't help but thank whatever God still out there, I still had this man to make me laugh even through this travesty happening around us.

* * *

There was an errie quietness that eventually fell over the city when gun fire almost ceased entirely only to amplify the screaming that did infact still continue. First it was the hum of heliopters circling overhead, we thought it was the sound of our salvation, our government coming through to reinforce the soldier and survivors still in the city. _Then thunder_. The ground shook beneath our feet at the first explosion, shaking the apartment like an earthquake and startling us all. More loud explosions errupted, continuing to quake the building, some rocking us harder and booming dangerously closer than all scurried to find cover under various furniture we could duck under, all the while hearing Philip's little girl screaming from wherever the other's had saught cover amongst the apartment. Michael's pictures and figurines tumbled off the shelves, his ceiling fan uprooted to crash down on the living room floor, nearly missing Todd and I who had crawled under the coffee table just moments before. Even the television fell off it's perch, smashing the glass screen against the wood panels.

"_Bombs_!" Nick had crawled his way across the room, braving to look out the window at what was now going on outside. "Shit man- _they're bombing us_!"

The next thing we knew was darkness. It was just thunder and gun fire, for the whole night it seemed. And eventually, there were no longer even screams. We all had grown silent ourselves, clutching at whoever was next to us, unsure if the next moment would blow us away to smitherines. I couldn't help but peek my head up to try and steal a glimpse of what Nick had seen. Through the dark of the night, fires had engulfed building to ashes and those more intact were still flickering and immitting thick smoke that torched the sky an ominous purple hue. Another flash of light flickered through the window pane, swaying the building so hard I wondered when we would be shook hard enough to topple over like the crumple of a janga tower. More crunches of glass being broken resonated through the apartment when the quake tumbled over another piece of furniture, rolling over Michael's poor battered frames that seemed to fly everywhere amongst the room. Todd yanked me back down, clutching me closer for either protection or pure consoling comfort, but I would never ask as we clung in fright for our lives the rest of the night.

It ached me to think we had escaped the mouth's of monsters to just be extinguished like _this._

However, as the first hues of light began to saturate the approaching morning sky, it seemed to signal a glimmer of hope we had survived through the twighlight. Our building seemed to be the few to miraculously be missed or overlooked during the extermination of Atlanta. After the roar of choppers, gun fire. and explosions eventually ebbing, I don't think I could ever remember a time anything sounding quieter. It was just us, too terrified to get a wink of sleep, with only the whispers of each other's shaking and shuddering breaths as ambiance. It was Nick again to be the first to emerge from whatever hiding place he'd squeezed into throughout the night, looking back through the window that beamed a lonely streak of sunlight. His sillhouette blocked the flood of light as we all collectively watched for any reaction, any hopeful hint of what had happened outside. Though I felt that flicker dreadfully dim as Nick just continued to stare out the window, giving us only his back for a long, long time.

"What is it?" a voice finally asked from somewhere else amongst the room. Still, there was no reply and Nick had yet to even turn his head.

There was a muffled shuffling until we saw the father, Phillip, carefully step towards the man he'd fled with the previous day. I watch the man's gaze worriedly observe the expression we all couldn't see on his friend's face until he turned to see himself what it was Nick was staring so intently at outside.

My heart had hitched in my throat and I couldn't help but sharply exhale a frightened whine at now both men standing together as if hypnotized by the sight before them. I couldn't help but assume that didn't bode well for good news.

"_Daddy_?"

Everyone else seemed to receed cautiously out from their hiding places, everyone looking just as bone-wearied and exhausted at what awaited us.

Helping Todd try not to jar his injured side too much, we crawled out from the small table we'd taken refuge under for the night, limping together to join the rest who went to look for themselves what had these men struck motionless. Squinting through the overwhelming sunlight, I had to blink a few times and shield my hand above my eyes until they could adjust to make out the sight before me.

My hand fell numb from Todd's grasp as we all took in the sight outside Michael's living room window. The alley of mobbing dead we had just fled from was definately now tamed, the street was no longer noticeable under the layer of bodies paving the concrete like snow would blanket the ground in winter. Bullet holes, teeth marks, and blood were marred almost upon everyone. Being the very top floor of his apartment, Michael had a view over other nearby buildings, allowing us quite a view of the main streets that looked practically identical to the alley below the balcony. Military tanks were no longer secured by the units of soldiers, but parked abandoned in the streets along with multiple other cars. The men in uniforms, soldier, police, and even firefighters, littered the ground amongst the bodies of regular civilians, a few even draped sickeningly out from the tops of tanks, hanging out half eaten and in ribbons. But what was the most prominent among the layer of bodies were the ones that _weren't _motionless. It was a free for all amongst the pick of flesh as the growling and groaning infected of yesterday were now quieter in their satiated feasting. Half a population was lying slaughtered amongst the streets of Atlanta, while the rest kneeled over them to devour the left over dead. Buildings were in embers where bombs had targeted, even cars crumpled to rusted cinders- some with remaining skeletons of their former inhabitants left as charred remains that even the infected avoided.

Not one of us could articulate anything to say regarding city outside and it was only the little girl Penny who could whisper to her father.

"_Daddy, is this real_?"

* * *

The nine of us would reside together crammed in Mr. Coleman's apartment the days we waited. We waited for _anything. _After the bombing, Atlanta's electricity seemed to be out completely outside of the apartment, clouding us in complete darkness if it weren't for Michael's candles once another night would fall. Everyone seemed to be anticipating more government reignforcments to arrive. Milton and Philip were convinced the government had to have some type of plan to rescue those still alive in the city, hopeful military was at least close by protecting the CDC at all costs. It was hard to stomach telling them how I'd last left the research center, remembering the shootings all too clearly in the nightmares regularly plaguing me. My news seemed to hit Milton the hardest, remaining adament some order of law would figure out this disease and come to the aid of those surviving the infected.

It seemed like nothing less of a miracle we were able to remain undetected on the apartment's top floor. Michael told us the elevator had jammed early on during his neighbors' panic to flee once chaos overwhelmed the city and had already taken to barricading the stairway leading from the lower levels when he resolved to remain behind at home. Ironically, he had stayed to accept fate yet wound up taking the responsibilty of saving eight other lives, accepting us without what seemed a second thought. But as days passed, Michael's pantries were now close to bare and with the gas off we no longer had any form of hydration now that we'd drank through all his tea and juice, now only on the last few jugs of arrowhead water. Anxiety was catching like a fever amongst us the longer we depended on help to come for us, and as the days ticked by we were beginning to grow stir crazy. Eventually the idea of venturing outside the apartment doors was broached for the sake of searching for needed groceries we were bound to run out of in only a matter of days.

"We have no idea what could be on the other side of that door," I protested. "What if we go out there and wake up some those..._things_?"

"Either chance it or eventually starve," Todd tried to reason with me.

"He's right," Mr. Coleman interjected, sliding a calming hand over our rising hackles. "We've got a few canned beans, corn, Chef Boyarde...but the bread has spoiled and we've about run out of anything in the pantries last night."

Unfortunately, any food Michael had in his refridgerator had spoiled a couple days ago before we could cook any of it.

"We do it smart, keep it quiet," Philip began reasoning. "If the floor's blocked off like Mr. Coleman says, we can have a chance to poke around without them outside knowin' the better."

"That's a lot to gamble on an _if_," Nick cut in looking apprehensive himself. "We don't know what damage those bombs could've done to this building- his barricade could be in shambles out there."

"And how exactly would you propose to _keep it quiet_ if you come up on one out there?" I exclaimed, still vocalizing my doubts while wringing my hands together in a bundle of nerves.

Philip crossed the room to retrieve one of the crow bars his brother and Nick had used to defend themselves getting through the city, tossing them back to their former wielders who caught them suspiciously before turning to Michael.

"Got any other blunt inanimate objects lyin' around, Mr. Coleman?"

The apartment owner nodded, undertanding where this was going and after a few minutes later of shuffling through closets and his bedroom he was able to produce a couple golf clubs and baseball bats of his, making my stomach roll as I remembered the man who'd saved Daniel and I, shying away from this distribution. We had all crowded around the kitchen table, Michael drawing out a layout from memory the best he could on a spare piece of paper while the four other men discussed theories to look through the neighboring apartments with pencils in hand.

"Five others on this floor," Michael informed after his rough outline. "Most of them just two bedroom, maybe three- three or four rooms if you include 's also a door to the roof at the end of the hall, it's usually kept locked."

"We take turns," Philip suggested, not taking his insightful baby blue eyes from studying the layout. "Make sure the hallway's clear and the stairway's blocked before we check the rooms, _quietly_."

"Keep some of us posted by the doors, make sure they stay closed and double check that roof," Todd added, gnawing on the end of his pencil he'd been tapping in thought. " 'Case someone infected stayed around... don't want them running up on us while we're packing up groceries."

"Yeah, we'll have a few on look out in the hall," Brian said while leaning over to shade in the center of the floor's shared hallway, drawing lines to each apartment in order from the ones closest to Michael's. "We make our way around, split up and check two at a time while we the others contain the rooms until we're ready incase there is..._somebody _left behind. We'll save the roof for last."

"I'm sorry, I just have to interject," Milton stuttered out, stopping everyone in their plans. "But I think if we just stay put and remain safe until they come for us-"

"It's been _days_," Neema slipped in quietly from behind her veil, having stayed silent but thoughtful throughout the discussion she looking uneasy now at the attention turned to her but continued on hesitantly. "We could go hungry by the time help arrives."

"Did you see that shit out there?" Todd added, acting almost irritated by the disruption from their planning. "_If _there's a _'they'_ anymore, it's gunna take a long damn time to get through those fucks outside, let alone find us."

"He's got a point though," Nick now piped in. "Say we go out there, bring down those cannibals on us and wipe out this spot we could've waited out in- military could be here any day- "

"Christ man, you needa wake up," Todd muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. "There is no military; they're outside _dead _or _eating_."

I could tell as soon as the words left his mouth, Todd wished he hadn't spoke so harshly, his eyes darting to me and softening apologetically. Philip's daughter had been listening along with the rest of us and looked like she was trying not to cry in front of the room full of strangers. It was her uncle who looked the most upset like he wanted to rebuttle Todd's insensitive comment before his brother interupted anymore argument.

"Alright, _enough_," Philip sighed exasperatedly, giving his friend a look to shut his mouth before he could make anymore comments.

"Whether anyone's comin' today or weeks from now, we can't know unless any of ya'll are psychics," he tried sternly but attempting to lighten up the room, glancing around the room reapproachfully. "We gotta prepare for it, we gotta do what needs doin' in the mean time."

Everyone seemed to be able to agree after a moment of settling down, Brian being the first to hesitantly continue with suggestions to repair the barricade if in fact it was damaged in a much calmer and quieter manner. Still feeling extremely frightened on the idea of stepping outside, just the thought of one of those _sick people- _lunging after us with a promise of teeth- made my skin crawl. The golf putter Michael handed me felt irrationally heavy, knowing in my concious it was ridiculous to even be holding this as there was no way I'd be able to bring it down hard enough over someone's skull like the way I'd seen Brian and Nick do days previously.

"Guess we can put these beauties to use," Michael commented, passing another to Philip. "Used to drive Betty half-mad how often I played. Stopped having the back for it and had to give it up a few years ago, they've just been collecting dust these days I'm afraid."

"Mighty shame," Philip murmured, appreciatively inspecting the much thicker and rounder club than mine.

Todd smirked at the two and scoffed good humoredly, nodding his head to one of the steel bats instead, "You golfers get all emotional- I rather have a crack at that bat."

Test swinging it a few tries, I recognized he was flexing his old baseball batting, eventually satisfied with it's adjustment in his grip. Michael began to offer another to Milton, who immediantly seemed to shriveled back from these objects meant for malicious intent, seeming to look from the bats to us like he found this all just as appalling of an idea as me, maybe more. Before Milton had a chance to protest, Philip seemed to notice the man's severe hesitation.

"Milton, and... Neema, is it?" he asked slowly, mentioning the other person who also seemed tenative about joining this search. "Would you two look after my little girl while I'm gone?"

Stepping forward, Philip held out the revolver to the uneasy man who seemed to squirm under the pressure being put upon him, beginning to protest softly, "This-this isn't neccessary-"

"If something should happen, I need ya'll to take my daughter," Philip said in almost a whisper, most likely so Penny wouldn't be able to hear, only hearing it myself because I was right beside them. "Back out the fire escape if you can, just don't let _them_ end her... _Please_."

His last quiet plea sounded so soft I wasn't sure I'd heard it, but was horrified to hear his underlying meaning which seemed to only mortify Milton more. But before the man could shake his head, it was Neema who stepped forward and placed her hand softly over the gun Philip held out. Her head scraf was still secured around her but had sagged down her chin, uncovering her whole face as she stared back up at Philip in understanding.

"We'll look after her," the woman assured the father, taking the gun from his grasp, holding it loosely and observing the foreign object.

Before I could listen when Philip turned to kneel in front of his daughter, Todd walked by and caught my arm, gently tugging me to follow. Taking the hint, I let him lead me down the hall towards the restroom, pulling me aside when we reached the end, offering us a small corner of privacy. Without a word, Todd produced a pistol- a smaller one than the one he was shooting a few days ago I realized. Arching my eyebrow, I felt my familiar objection towards his firearms rise in my throat like bile until he shushed me.

"I know, I know," Todd sighed. "You've never liked these in the house an' all... but it'll give me a peace of mind."

Worrying my bottom lip with my teeth, I knew it was a rational request. A little touched Todd was so worried for my sake, I reluctantly obliged my boyfriend, sighing heavily before stiffly nodding my agreement. Motioning for me to turn around, I did so awkwardly at first, not knowing what he was up to before I felt him pulling at my waistband, shivering at the cold metal Todd secured against my lower back, pulling one of the shirts of mine he'd brought with him from home back over to cover the gun he'd just tucked in my pants. Softly pulling me to turn back around, I tried to will myself to smile back nervously but could only pull up the tiny corners of my mouth so muh in fear of my composure blubbering out. I was supposed to me an EMT goddamnit, I wasn't a stranger to working under pressure, so it was frustrating that it was now that I should lose almost all mettle. Todd seemed to understand, leaning down to lightly press his lips into my brow.

"Only for last resort," he warned me though. "You saw how they were... the noise attracts 'em, so only if you're about to be-"

His eyes bore into me and I knew it was too painful for either of us to acknowledge, so I just nodded and shifted uncomfortably under his imploring stare.

"You don't hesitate," Todd whispered, his voice a little deeper, feeling like a rush of dejavu draped over me thinking about what the medic soldier had instructed me before we tried to transfer the sick out from the city. _You _do not_ resuscitate. _I now understood what he'd had been trying to tell me. Todd was still trying to talk to me as I tried to shake myself from my unease, the last of his words I caught a little disturbing to my ears. "...you shoot the bastard in the head. Not the chest, not the heart, _the brain._"

"Todd," I muttered warningly. "These are still_ people_, _sick_ people-"

"They're not anymore," Todd interrupted softly, but his gaze had turned dark. "They're _dead_, Olive. Whatever this is, it happens after they're already _gone_- "

"You don't know that," I tried to insist but only sounded weak and unconvincing. It ached me to believe so many people could just be taken so quickly- _for good._ Death was not unfamiliar to me, but the dead reanimating with a hunger for the living's flesh was so unnatural it was an unbelievable concept to accept. "There could be a cure- doctors are out there right now trying to figure something out, and if we end up just killing them without _knowing_-"

"You can't cure someone after they've already died," he urged, beginning to pace around the confined little hall and rubbed his hand tiredly over his face and raked through his uncombed shaggy, golden blond hair. Todd seemed irritable at this turn of topics we had caught ourselves still debating about until he stopped pacing to stare at me with eyes that were especially bright, surprising me at how upset he had become.

"I watched Neema's little girl _stop breathing_," he finally croaked, blinking back the glimmer that was building behind his lashes. There was nothing I could say and just was struck silent to see Todd sniff and continue to rub his hand over his eyes, eventually letting out a long shuddered exhale of breath before he could look back up at me with unbearably sad eyes. "I carried that girl- I could _feel_ her little heart beat _stop_..."

My skin crawled at what Todd was trying to tell me and my heart crumpled for him. He seemed to be trying to convince himself just as much as me and every word seemed like it ached him.

"We couldn't just leave her- _I_ couldn't just leave her," he continued, gnawing on his lip between his words. "Then she just, _came back_. But not like how she'd been before- her eyes were _white- _the noise that she made- Christ, it wasn't _human_- "

Todd was growing increasingly anguished the more he tried to explain, his thick exterior resolve I'd seen just minutes ago dissolved to shambles as he tried to confess about this little girl. Unable to bear seeing him so upset, I rushed to encircle him with my arms and murmer my understanding to him, trying to keep this moment quiet and private to those just down the hall.

"Ok. Ok, it's_ ok_," I heard myself repeating to the man burying his wet face into my neck for a brief moment. "At least you did right by her..."

"By putting a bullet through her head?" he murmered eventually, looking back up at me pleadingly. "You think I murdered that little girl then?"

At a loss for words, I wished I hadn't just previously said what I did, but I couldn't bring myself to lie to Todd when he was imploring me so sincerely. After a long silent moment between us, he finally gave up waiting for a response from me, looking away and nodded solemnly taking my silence as an answer. Wiping his face one more time, he slowly brushed past me to rejoin the others making arrangements, leaving me still speechless and kicking myself for being such an aweful confidant.

Feeling like the biggest asshole, I sighed and could only follow him back out with my head hung in shame at my lack of empathy to comfort this stuggling man.

* * *

Taking the first step outside had been the hardest, maybe most terrifying. Michael finally unlatched the door, yanking it back as Todd, Philip, Brian, and Nick all braced themselves to strike if anything should detect the open door. Cringed back from what could to await us outside, I remained still for a few moments listening to the men charge out into the hall, their clubs and bats poised ready to swing at anything lurking in the hallway. Most of Michael's neighbors hadn't bothered to close or even lock their doors in what looked to have been a hectic flight of people trying to take whatever they could with them while leaving; various furniture looked like they had tried to be dragged down the stairs, eventually given up on and left behind, books scattered the floor from where they fell off their shelves, clothes pulled hurriedly from drawers with some left in what was most likely a panic. Brian immiately ran to one door, running with one of Michael's chairs to jam under the handles, Todd following close behind with another chair to close and lock another door as quiet as possible. While they closed and secured the other apartment doors, Philip and Michael hurried to the makeshift barricade which turned out to be nothing but a cluster of stacked furniture; strategically piled up bookshelves, dressers, desks, bed frames. Remembering Michael said it was him and one another man who helped him construe this together, I wondered what must have happened to him, none of us had the heart to ask earlier. He sure must have been a wonderful help to Mr. Coleman, for I knew this elderly man couldn't have possibly lifted all of these himself. For the most part, the blockade of abandoned furniture was still intact and doing a fine enough job keeping anything from getting any further up the stairs, only have to adjust a few loosened dressers back into secure positions.

Philip knocked with the brush of his knuckles to get our attentions, beckoning with a jerk of his head once we secured the unlocked doors. Following as planned, Philip and Nick paired up to take one of the doors that weren't locked first, while Todd and Brian took another. I wondered if Philip purposely proposed his brother go with my boyfriend instead to prevent Todd and Nick going back and forth with each other like earlier, though I wasn't able to ponder on this long before they already begun removing the chairs securing the knobs and ducking into the first apartments. I desperately saught Todd's gaze for a split second, catching him before he followed after Brian. I wanted to beg him to be careful and wished he didn't insist putting himself at such risk, but I chose to remain silent and squish any lingering resentment towards this search now that we were already in the midst of it. Either it was written all over my terrified expression or he just knew I wasn't pleased about this idea, Todd seemed to detect my displeasure by the way he tried to nod encouragingly, but ducked frustratingly inside the dark apartment the next moment. While the rest were scouting, Michael and I were the look outs waiting for the two pairs out in the hall keeping an eye on the other rooms. We could faintly hear them tinkering around inside and the faint rustling of their plastic grocerey bags they used to loiter off the abandoned rooms. The concept of stealing from other people's houses was regretable, but a part of me even wondered if these people had managed to make it out of Atlanta...

On edge at the tiniest of noises, waiting to hear any odd disruption coming from either rooms. They were taking an agonizingly long time, I thought, still noting there were three other rooms they still planned to look through. Michael was remaining just as silent and attentive beside me, his golf club I couldn't help but notice was grasped admirably tight in his wrinkled hands as we both awaited any shout for assistance from either room. Eventually after keeping a close watch on the handles of all the doors still needing to be cleared out, I could finally breathe a little easier once Todd reappeared back out with Brian, the first to immerge carrying a couple bag fulls each, quite a find I noted seeing boxes of cereals, toliet paper, shampoos, soaps, and all sorts of miscealaneous items. They appeared just as relieved as I felt to see so much still left behind we could prosper off, small grins on their faces indicated the apartment had most likely been safe enough, but we all kept quiet and they just gave us a nod of assurance everything had gone off without a hitch so far before taking their turn on with the next apartment. Nick and Philip would reappeared back out shortly after, bags of their own slung over their shoulders, seemingly in just as good of a mood as the other pair with their findings.

We spent almost a whole half hour later finishing up the last of the apartments on Michael's floor, it wasn't until one of the last locked doors Todd and Brian had to kick open did we hear a sudden snarl as a pair of people barrelled out. My stomach clenched horrifyingly as I saw one, a man in just a wifebeater and boxers grasp Brian by the collar, the force of this man snapping after the taller man's neck collided the two back against the hallway wall. While desperately trying to pull the man closer to take a chunk from his flesh, Brian was grunting at the effort of keeping him far enough away to avoid the man's jaws while trying to wrestle from the grasp this man had on his shirt. Todd had already swung his bat down on the head of the other girl who tried to lunge on her way out, impaling her again after she already fell, bashing a wide enough gash to concave her skull and ceasing anymore movement. Paralyzed in a sudden sickness that burned through my stomach at seeing this decayed-skinned woman with nothing but her underwear on, bleeding her brains out on the floor, my feet wouldn't follow after Michael who had already run to help Todd pry off the man attacking Brian. Before I could get myself to snap out of this petrified state, Philip and Nick had already run out from the apartment they had been searching at the sound of shouts. Michael and Todd had succeeded pulling off the man who dropped clumsily to the floor, but before he could get back on his feet after anyone else, Philip stepped in to swing his golf club down mightily, the force of it construing his face as he swung down repeatedly until it's head was nothing but a scattered bloody mess across the floor and on our shoes. Finally halting his strikes, Philip eventually tore his eyes away from the man he just beat to death to his brother, wordlessly assuring each other they were alright with a few curt nods, both panting from the scuffle with this clearly infected man by the looks of his eyes before they'd been smashed out. Brian however was staring back at his brother wide-eyed, like he couldn't believe the way Philip had just wailed on this man, infected or not. Unlike Todd who'd done it efficiently enough but brief, the older brother had just overkilled. Todd didn't seem to view this as disturbingly as Brian and I, stepping forward to clap the man on the back, tilting his head back to the rooms and murmering they should get back to finishing up. Without any other words everyone dispersed, Nick and Philip heading back to finish the room they'd previously still been searching through while Todd helped Brian up and cautiously continued their venture into the apartment the infected had come from.

It was until Michael and I were left back alone with the mess of skull and brain tissue did I feel tremendously guilty I had just stood by and watched that..._sick person _try to rip at Brian. If it hadn't been for Michael, Todd and Philip- _would I have just watched_? Thinking back to how cold I'd been towards Todd's confession earlier and now this heartlessness to help a man I would have definately felt aweful about if anything had happened, I felt ashamed at how selfishly I was coping through all this while all these other men were only doing this so we could get through another day. I'm sure they all had their own sets of phobias of the dead.

"That had been Richard and Denise," Michael murmured, startling me out of my inner-turmoil. Glancing hesitantly at the desimated corpses, I grimaced that Michael had actually had to witness his neighbors heads beaten in.

"Sorry," I whispered back, trying to draw from my experiances as an EMT to share at least a shred of comfort.

"I didn't know they stayed behind," he continued on but remaining just above a whisper. "Betty wouldn't have wanted them to be alone like that..."

I couldn't help but glance up from the hall to see how sadly Michael's face had drooped, his almost translucent sea-green eyes looking adrift in a memory.

"Betty, your wife..." I tried slowly, watching for an expression if this wasn't an appropriate enough topic for conversation, but he seemed nuetral and waited to hear what I had to ask. "Was she...did she- ?"

"No, no," he answered softly, saving me the trouble. "She passed four years ago last month."

Nodding, I was satisfied to at least hear the woman Michael liked to fondly mention from time to time hadn't been torn apart like the rest.

"She was sure _something_." Surprised that he was continuing on with this conversation I grinned back at him, appreciative he was sharing this with me while we waited. "Sharp as a whip, my Betty. Smartest woman I ever met- made sure I married her."

"Sounds like you were the smart one then." Michael looked over at me, his troubled expression from earlier softened as he stared over at me with a tiny smile of his own that dug hollow holes into his cheeks that at one time must've been quite attractive dimples. Studying each other a moment longer, we both turned to resume our attention back to the rooms we were supposed to be watching.

"I'm grateful to Him... that he took her before she could endure all this," he confessed a bit more darkly after a long pause of silence between us. "She wouldn't have been able to live like..."

We both glanced back over to the smashed up remains of Richard and Denise, and both understood what _living like this_ meant...

"It can't be like this forever," I tried, mustering up a sliver of some conviction. "We just have to wait. They'll come up with a way to fix this, disasters take time...we just gotta be patient."

Before Michael could comment further, Todd and Philip came back out with more bags, only having a few more they'd tied in their waistbands left. Brushing a reassuring hand across my shoulder, Todd followed Brian to the last apartment door who had already starting to kick open. Ripping from it's hinges, the door swung loose and Todd quickly rushed to follow inside. Philip and Nick appeared not too long afterwards, carrying the rest of their supplies bags they had hooked around each finger to carry out it seemed. Yet the men seemed uneasy, _tainted_ a bit differently than how they'd gone in as I noticed Nick especially avoiding our gazes, Michael and I trying to get a reading on if everything had gone alright, but they appeared physically intact so we let them set down their bags without a word and left to help Brian and Todd finish.

After everyone appeared back in the hall to regroup, we all left our bags to cautiously approached the small stairway at the very end of the hall leading up to a locked door to the roof like how Michael had drawn out. Still on edge about the unknowns behind these apartment's closed doors after the surprise earlier. I was urged back while Todd and Nick kicked at the door only a couple times before it was swung open not too subtly, causing the two to recieve a dirty look from me before they all barged past the doorway and into the outside's blinding beam of daylight now seeping in to light up the darkened apartment floor. I decided to wait with Brian who had taken to staying behind to keep an eye on the rooms, the uncle seemingly still nervous about leaving his niece in the apartment unwatched. Possibly inheightened after his attack earlier? Taking a slightly better notice of the man while we waited a bit awkwardly, he was definately the tallest out of us all, maybe only barely more than Philip, but was obviously the younger of the two brothers. About around my age I would guess, with identical sandy brown hair and a lanky stature much like his older brother other than a rounder nose and muddy hazel eyes to tell the difference. He gave me the impression of being the more levelheaded of the group, not as ready to leap into a plan of action like Todd but hadn't hesitated stepping forward to help strategize or shy away like Milton. The usual congenial expression I saw him use most of the time spent together was marred with a deep frown as he now just proceeded to stare ahead down the now illuminated hallway.

"You ok?" I braved to whisper. I wasn't sure if he heard me or just didn't want to answer until he finally shook his head. I caught the direction that had captured his gaze and realized he'd been eyeing the dead couple still on the floor.

"I get these people are _monsters_," he finally admitted quietly. "I'm not a doctor- I have no idea what this all is...but I _get it_."

Not sure where this was going, I just continued to offer an ear to listen while the man relented the tension building within him.

"But I can't help but feel they don't _deserve_ to be taken out the way my brother just did."

Looking up at this, I saw Brian had also turned to watch my reaction to this, possibly seeing if I either scorned or scoffed at this reasoning. Meeting the man's imploring sunset-colored eyes, I felt I could relate to Brian the most.

"Me too."

* * *

The roof had turned out to be clear, allowing us to have a small little fire to cook some of the food in celebration of today's good fortune. As the sun began to dip below the distance in the west, we were able to all finally enjoy Atlanta night's approaching breeze brush against our faces after days being cooped up and crowded in Michael's apartment. Michael, Milton and I had taken to sorting through what the others had collected, using one of the former's pots to boil up a box of hamburger helper- just without the meat while we all sat comfortably in a circle around the fire before we'd have to put it out once we lost the light. I had taken to resting beside Todd who seemed to be deep in thought, far away from me on this roof yet his arm was slung securely around my waist to keep contact between us. I also took notice of the bat he kept resting on his other side, even out here- as did everyone else besides Milton and Penny. Even Neema, who had given back the gun Philip had urged them to borrow for his daughter's protection- yet had surprisingly asked Todd if she could use one from his stash later that day, telling me he'd given her one of the smaller pistols he had left like the one I still had uncomfortably stashed in my waistband. Once the noodles were cooked and seasoned, Milton helped Michael pass around a few plastic bowls and forks we'd taken from both the rooms and Michael's cupboards to serve out the food while Neema poured warm cups of soda that still tasted just as satisfying if it had been cold. Once everyone had settled amongst the fire to begin digging into the meal, a cough interupted me before I could take the first bite.

"I'd like to make a toast," Philip started a bit awkwardly, but as Penny looked up at her father with a smile I felt outmatched the subtle beauty of the setting sun, he smiled back down at her, directing his renewed spirit back up at us. "To those who allowed us to get through this another day. Not just Michael... but those who were lost on this floor- we'll respectfully honor their memory by surviving through this."

I couldn't help but steal a glance at Brian who was sitting on the other side of Penny, wondering if maybe the two brothers had a discussion earlier about the way Philip had handled the infected. He had been staring down at his bowl of food while listening to his brother talk. Philip lifted his cup to toast, now looking over to his brother who finally met his gaze, joining the rest of us to toast and offered a small nod of acknowledgement.

"To surviving," Todd muttered, tilting his cup to clink against mine before leaning over to do the same to Philip's. Spurring on everyone to follow along, this seemed to spark a small appreciation amongst us as we each cheered one another.

"To Michael," I added, flashing a small smirk to the old man who waved me away humbly, causing the rest of us to chuckle at his bashfulness.

"Here here," Nick joined in, tipping his cup to the oldest of us before taking a generous swig.

We continued to eat in a compatible silence, enjoying this moment watching the tangerine glow receed as sun set, even if it was on the horizon of walking corpses.

"You know," Milton finally spoke, breaking the rooftop's silence. "If-if we keep containers out here the duration of the night, we can collect enough condensation to supplement our water supply."

"Good idea," Philip commented after thoughtfully chewing. "We found quite a few liters left behind, but just in case we do have to wait this out longer than anticipated, water should definately be a priority."

"And now that we have a rooftop," Neema added contemplatively. "We should be making signs so they'll know where to look once help does come."

"Yeah I mean, there's bound to be more 'copters some time," Nick agreed, a small flicker of hope begining to reflect like everyone else as we planned.

"We could use the sheets, some of the left behind clothes, I'm sure it wouldn't be too difficult to sew something up," Neema suggested, finally participating more in our conversation.

"My wife had a sewing machine," Michael offered. "It's around somewhere, I wouldn't have thrown it out."

Planning for our future survival seemed to allievate some of the smothering turmoil we'd been carrying with us the past few days, even myself as I talked over with Neema ways of approaching this sign we would need big enough for someone aireborne to read it.

We just had to be patient. With the last remaining beam of sunlight on my face and the wind blowing against my cheeks, I had confidence we could endure through this.

* * *

_Well I hope you all enjoyed this new installment of CTF! So here was another flashback of the Woodbury group, I'm so nervous on how I portrayed Philip and Milton, I hope I did them justice of how they are on the show which is where I'll be pulling most inspiration from for these two. Brian and Nick are actually characters from _Rise of the Governor_, I don't think they were ever mentioned in the tv series, so they'll be mostly AU as well to those of you who haven't read the book- which I definately recommend! _

_ I adore and appreciate all follows and favorites, but I have to say I love all the amazingggg reviewers as well. It's hard for me to get a feel on how you guys are liking the story with the lack of comments- so I hope some of you will take the time to let me know how you feel about this developing back story. It makes the hugest difference to hear what you guys appreciate from my work, even if it is criticism and would love getting my readers perspectives on things. And the lyrics and inspiration for this chapter are the_ Smashing Pumpkins' _song _The Beginning Is The End Is The Beginning, _I always advise a listen!_

_ And don't fret! More interaction with the Prison Group is a'comin! And I know that link I tried to post of Olive/Todd's Sickle was bunk, so just go to my profile if you're interested in case you're interested._


	6. Chapter 6

_"Every time I close my eyes  
It's like a dark paradise  
No one compares to you  
I'm scared that you won't be waiting on the other side"_

Chapter Six

The time spent residing in the culdesac by Jackson Lake had turned to actually be prosperous- once I was able to keep paranoid thoughts from running away with me. It took three days og living on edge before I was able to get over my initial suspicions of the eerily undisturbed town. Remembering the last homely place we had tried to reside in even before Woodbury, I couldn't help but feel convinced this was a trap; a stage town other scavengers used to lure wandering survivors to take their supplies- and most likely wouldn't leave with their lives. All who had originally escaped Atlanta were well acquiantanced with these types of places and made me dreadfully nervous I had stumbled on one. Even the pool hadn't felt secure enough- not just from Biters that is- so I spent the next night, and the night after, barricaded in the library-like room with the bookshelves shoved up against the door, unfortunately unsuccessful at keeping out the rank odor that seemed to stink up every room in the house. There wasn't much rest to be had those first few nights, keeping every light of mine dimmed I awaited any sounds or signs of intruders with the assault rifle in my lap by the window. Those days went by and I was left undisturbed, yet still I couldn't squash the unsettlement. I blamed my obsessive vigilance and lack of sleep for the momentary lapse of psychosis I was experiancing cooped up in a clammy decay-smelling house. Every attempt I made to shut out any incessant neurosis, memories were the only thing I ever saw behind my closed eyelids. And until recently, I was beginning to see faces bleed from the pages of my memory to leak over into my reality even after I opened my eyes; some days it was Penny, sitting on the other side of my lonely candle, the sliver of light flickering over the shadow darkening her face to reveal her smiling back at me like the way we'd been our nights by the waterfall, or sometimes I could still hear her softly singing that lullaby of her's, echoing and interrupt my thoughts..._ Bye, baby bunting, daddy's gone a hunting..._ But sometimes, in the dark of a sleepless night, she stared back at me with the pale reflection of moonlight on her face and her abdomen shining a dark, wet crimson that seeped through the tear in her polka-dot jacket. _The last way I had seen that little girl._ I was well aware these were blatant signs I was going shit-fucking-crazy, but was I truely going insane if I acknowledged the abbarations I was seeing were the work of an unravaling state of mind?

But after a few more days of confinement without another presense besides those in my head and the occassional wandering Biter, I finally allowed myself to sleep outside like I prefered. It didn't take long at all to spring back into my old health- not the greatest, but my bruises were no longer so sore and crippling which was enough for me. Once recovered enough, I took advantage of this deserted town to supplement my little to no food supply I had remaining, now able to properly explore through the settlement of houses. But just like the first time I visited this place, every house had been combed over pretty thoroughly. Surprisingly I was able to dig up a left behind flashlight that fortunately I had batteries for and a few utensils I'd plucked from a kitchen drawer, not remembering the last time I ate with a fork or spoon. As much as I detested the rotten stench that permanently polluted up the air, I tried to leave everything as untouched as I could manage, not wanting to give anyone the slightest clue there was someone living around here. The docks proved to have much more interesting crevises to look through; the few local tackle and bait shops had of course been included in the town's raid, but I was able to pick through a few of the meager aisles to find a few hooks lying spilled across the floor where a tackle box had fallen over, and a small wheel of fishing line- and a Milky Way I'd snagged behind the counter on my way out.

It seemed to be my knee that took the longest to heal and was unable to walk without a limp for a few days, so I used the time to gather as much wood I could find around the nearby woods to pile inside the pool with me. Not just to keep a fire for neccessities, but I collected some of the longest fallen branches to widdle and sharpen their ends enough into my own make-shift harpoons. Taking advantage of the lake, I used the large entrapment of water and began a process of hammering the thickest sticks I'd saved into the muddy lake floor, staking them secure enough so they could stand straight up on their own. I did this in a few scattered rows leading from the shore, thinning the space of water leading towards the lake's bank between the wall of sticks. Collecting some of the larger pebbles along the lake shore, I scattered them between the rows and clustered up the pathways for fish attempting to swim through would have to avert their direction closer to the shore. Keeping the few sticks I had sharpened especially, I spent the week wading up to my knees in the cooling lake water, using this technique of trapping fish which took just about a whole day's work inbetween perimeter check breaks. By the end of the day, my feet were turned to pale raisens showing just how much time I invested with my feet in the water. I would have to rely on this method for the time being, since most of my woodland hunting would have to be put at a hold, at least temporarily. It was Nick who actually showed us this nifty little trick. While Todd was the ever insightful tracker, brought up camping in the woods of Northern California, and Merle the exceptional marksman, born and raised hunting amongst the mountains of Georgia- it was Nick who showed the two outdoorsmen a thing or two about fishing, proving to be a rather helpful food supply. The lake did have a few trout-looking fish that I was able to spear once they swam close enough after the first few initial trial and errors. Gutting fish was just about as disgusting as skinning game, the first try causing me to hurl at the wiff of fish guts. But after the first incident I was able to hold my breath and continue on slicing off fish heads and open up underbellys to clean out in the lake water. However, I came to realize this lake had way more crawdads than fish after nearly being scared out of my skin a few times from feeling them crawl across my bare feet. So then after, I put to use the little fishing hooks and tied them to the fishing lines I'd found and dug up a few worms to skewer as bait that hadn't been difficult to find from the muddy lake's shore. Crawdad fishing proved to be much more taxing on my patience that I had anticipated, unlike hunting where I was constantly on the move I had to wait completely still at the water's edge for the worm to intrigue a wandering by crustation enough. Only holding the string with just my fingers, it took a couple tries and a few more worms to get the hang of yanking up the hook at the right time as it's bitten, but just before it can pull the bait from the hook. It was tedious to say the least, but it kept me busy with a purpose that helped negate the phantasms.

Once limber enough to climb comfortable, I wasted no time returning to the familiarity of the treetops, using their branches to set up small squirell-sized snares and carving up the bark with the long curve of my blade to remind me which would need watching, the said object now seemingly a permanent fixture in my grasp to replace the lost security of my compound bow. Scouring the nearby brush along the forest floor just as thoroughly as the foliage above, I wound wire around the loose bramble of bushes nearest to small paths of grass I could faintly make out frequented rabbit tracks. These proved to work sufficient enough, catching myself quite a few squirells although I regretably couldn't say as much for my rabbit snares. Rather than remaining disconnected from killing my prey with an arrow shot at a distance, I had to actually end the small lives by my hands if the squirell's didn't hang themselves from the branches they caught themselves on. I tried to be as humane as possible, plunging my knife quick and deeply through the jugulars to spare them too much more pain- much like the way I remembered I had once treated Biters.

Thinking back now, I had to refrain from rolling my eyes at how I used to go about the treatment of Biters. Now days, I couldn't give a two shits about their handlement. It's not that I didn't still take into account these were once people- someone's _somebody_- but these _diseased_ have taken too much from me now and could only feel a certain degree of resentment that made it easier to deliver out any blade or arrow. These animals... they were untainted in this upheaveled world around them, and it disheartened me to end a life in such a bliss. These types of thoughts brought me back to the boy I had killed just a week ago. I would never know if he was a man of malice or just some young kid who'd been looking to prove himself... And I wondered about his brother, the voice I had heard Merle shouting at, and would think of how heavy this week without his brother must have weighed upon him. I was very familiar with loss and knew there would forever be a whole in someones life... but the first week was the most painful to the appendage in your chest. Unlike Merle, or Philip, or even Caesar, I still had a conscience for every life I found myself taking to insure my own survival, and every one came with it's own world of guilt, no matter what reason I may have had to silence their existance. But the second he pulled the trigger on me- it was _me_ or _him_- and there was no regret after that point. Hell, it wasn't _just_ me anymore, and I'd be damned if I let some kid snuff us out. _I had to protect my fire._

After two days of crawdad fishing, I could no longer bear the slow process of baiting and braved to venture back to the river that had all but kicked my ass a few days previously- but remained well upstream from the waterfall. I was able to find a narrower part of the stream and picked this location to set up a wall, this time against a mild current. It was more difficult placing the stakes inbetween the layers of rocks on the creek floor than in the lake, but I eventually managed to manuever a few of the slippery stones around to even help aid the barricade I'd stacked them around. The river was much more efficient for Nick's method, even though I cut it close to eating shit quite a few times trying to balance on the slimey moss-coated stones with my bare feet, my fishing went undisturbed and I could actually relax my hackles enough in my surroundings and enjoy the sunlight beaming down and reflecting off the contrasting creek keeping my feet cool. Spending afternoons harpooning for my dinners paid off when at the end of the day I could indulge on smoked fish next to the fire in the empty kidney-shaped bowl. I had to admit, it was frustrating sometimes to file off the scales and pick the bones out while eating, the initial reason I never ate too much fish to begin with, but it satiated my stomach almost every night I spent by the lake houses and soothed the permanent pang of hunger I'd become accustomed to.

I let myself slip in a slight state of contentment with the routine I'd found myself comfortably settling into; fishing at the river at first light and returning to cook my catches before sun down. I could almost feel like I was back at _home_, like in my adolescent years when Nat and I would sneak off to Venice or Hunington, tagging Jemma along once she was old enough, and bussed our way to the beach to spend the whole day swimming, hardly ever leaving the submersion of salty waves. Wading in water up to my knees with my sweatpants rolled up and bare feet halting me against the river's current, I could almost pretend they were waves, the river's rocks and dirt turning to soft wet sand between my toes instead. I fondly remembered the bus rides had however ceased once my dad picked up on where we'd been going, though seemed more bothered we'd been lying rather than us going to the beach. Instead, he'd drive us himself afterwards, whenever he could with the explanation of- "you guys'll go anyways, so rather you all stay off the bus". My dad wasn't always the most involved parent, but it was understandable to me that the man had to work his ass of supporting three daughters on his own most of our lives. Yet I'd come to learn my dad was an insightful man and kept watchful eyes on his daughters, surprising us sometimes with his subtle efforts to make sure we stayed out of _too_ much trouble. For a man who didn't always know what to say, I became more aware of just how profound his actions spoke louder than anything he ever said to us when I grew old enough to understand. _Not every father would have stayed_.

I had sworn to myself a long time ago I never wanted children, and I'll be the first to confess my reluctance at having such an impressionable responsibilty played a leading factor. Remembering back to a Psychology class I took, when studying human development and the theories on people inheriting their own mother and father's parenting when raising their own children had disturbed me. I would always harbor some biological reluctance of love for my mother- but fuck if I ever repeated any example she ever set. Yet now in this situation of mine, with an impending motherhood, I hoped to at least strive to protect this life with the strength my father had- even if it would have to be applied much differently in a more barbarous world than the one I'd grown up in. _I would _stay_ for this kid of mine. _And that included the way I kept myself alive. There was a deep inner struggle to allow myself to relax in this stability the lake houses provided, but _something_ just didn't seem _right_ about this place and it never allowed me to sleep without one eye open. It was like I was waiting for the ball to drop, the consequence of a realization that could wash over me when it could already be too late. But for the life of me, I couldn't figure out what could be off about this settlement after another stretch of an undisturbed, peaceful week. As irrational as it sounded aloud- this place just seemed too _perfect_. And from seeing how the place was left- and not in the shape I'd left it the first time- I wasn't about to let luxury lure me like the crawdads I attracted for dinner. Every gut-feeling that had guided me through surviving this world squirmed in my stomach, tieing knots of anxiety I just couldn't untangle even after days I'd spent undiscovered here. My instinct had yet to fail me, so I allowed them to influence my decision.

It was sad leaving the community by the lake behind as I packed my life back up to carry back into the woods. I retreated back to spending my nights amongst the treetops, chosing a particular tree that had caught my attention when looking for a place to reside my first night back in the forest. Graciously tall, it's trunk seemed to consist of a few seperate, thick branches weaving amongst each other in the odd way they must have grown together and made it much easier to chimney climb up the intertwined trunks and even more convientant to slide back down. Hoisting my bags up high enough to store amongst the foliage that dispersed in the higher up branches, the tree proved to be a much more convienant than the last one I'd chosen to reside in. This would prove useful for the next few months that would be approaching and should anticipate my climbing abilities would not soon dwindle.

* * *

I continued to live off the stream and the fish it graciously provided me from the migration of trout this time of year. Constantly keeping myself busy with a task at hand, I felt less distracted by the turmoils in life when I focused on a purpose instead. One day while checking up on my snares, I stumbled on tracks that particularly caught my attention. The soft soil I had been passing by had a pair of indentations pressed down into the still moist dirt, surprised that they were in fact hoove prints I hadn't recognized around this forest in quite some time. Outlining the footprints with my fingertips momentarily, they felt fresh across the mud and could still make out how defined it's edges still were. They were smaller than an average buck I noted, probably a doe by the size of the footprint. That didn't infringe on how giddy the prospect of a deer so close by made me, even if it was a smaller one, since I hadn't come across noy one since mid-winter. Unable to resist myself, I abandoned my original plans to head to the creek after my checks to follow the trail instead. Following alongside the hoove-prints I let them lead me through it's trek of the woods, the space inbetween it's steps were in tangent to show it had been walking at a relaxed pace and almost lead in a straight line to suggest it was following a familiar path. For being relatively new, I tried to out-pace the deer to catch up, keeping my eyes scanning back and forth between the approaching brush and following the tracks. I was halted however when this deer's direction had suddenly become startled-like, deviating off it's original path into a few sharp turns amongst the trees until they came closer to a naked sweep of forest the tracks lead into, it's prints spreading further apart indicating it had sped up to run through. A race through an open clearing like this must have been a move of desperation, considering the sunlight streaked through the shadowing nearby treetops like arrows to illuminate whatever braved the walk through. Confused that the deer would uncharacteristically would take such a risk, I kept to the shelter of the treeline to stay hidden amongst the tree's fringe of shadows. Instead of bum-rushing out into the open, I was a bit more reluctant to run through the open exposure myself, so I circled along the clearing's treeline, looking out for any footprints leading out from bare patch of foliage leading back into the forest.

Rolling my weight carefully from heel to toe, I walked as lightly as I could manage to prevent spooking the deer if it was close enough to hear me before I have the chance to spot it first. Like I'd guessed, I finally found tracks leading out of the clearing and continuing on in what looked to be a still much faster pace. Picking up my speed to try and mimik this animal's gallop, the chase exilerated me in this moment of adrenaline like no other hunt since before Woodbury; but this time I was alone in my stalk, the lone lioness without the pride. I felt connected with every molecule and element of the raw wilderness I ran through, unbrindled by any previous wariness. Warmth seeped throughout my feet to stretch itself up into my quads, contrasting against the cool air that blew past my cheeks and the tiny ripplets of sweat collected on my brow, but the epinephrinepumping through my blood stream allowed me to continue running alongside the trail with an untamed splendor. The forest floor was blurring under my feet but all I could zero-in on were the tracks still sprinting through the woods by the looks of the hoove-tracks. My heart beat in my ears, sychronized with my shaky breaths, surprisingly less raspy these days in Todd's absense, with the jostling of my rifle around my shoulder and the bag against my back in a lulling lilt. I felt _alive_ and _awake_.

Stuck in the confined equation of survival for so long, I felt myself gradually grow numb to the world around me. Sure I ran, quite often in fact, and sure I lived and breathed this forest every day for almost four months, yet I wandered amongst the wildlife's allure in a comatose-like state, lethargic to anything else in my surroundings. I wasn't sure how the prospect of this deer sparked such an impulsive appetite, but it was something more than just the outcome of a meal that aflamed my pursuit.

Eventually, I took notice the deer's tracks looked to be slowing up, even veering off east of it's original direction in what seemed to be a more relaxed trot. Settling myself to slow up, I urged myself to manuever much slower and thoughtfully through the dry foliage cracking under my boots, not wanting my footfalls to startle the fawn now that it seemed I might be gaining ground over it. Before I could think anything of it, my right arm reached back to find an arrow out of my backpack to draw back on my bow I then realized was another lost companion of mine and should remember was no longer with me. Chastising myself briefly, I resigned for the rifle and held it at the ready, my aim ready to rise and my finger awaiting to squeeze the trigger at first sight. I was a descent shot with the assualt rifle, but it have never compared much with my ability with the bow, but I'd just have to adapt to one more adjustment I supposed. Inching my way through the foliage, I noticed it was leading me into a thicket of tall bushes, a common place deer tended to hide. Fortunately, I was upwind, so was able to slink through the terrain without being smelled first, ducking and crouching delicately through the bramble trying to tug at my clothing and even managed to pull at a few strands of hair. It was when I rounded a few more bramble bushes did the behind of a deer peek out, still all my movement to observe the sight just up ahead of me. Holding my breath, I pivoted the rifle against my shoulder anxiously to stare down the sight of my gun, entirely in fear of any noise exposing my presense. I had been right to assume it was indeed a much smaller and slender doe who had now stopped completely from her journey to brush her snout across the forest floor, making me wince at seeing she was trying to sniff something out no doubt. She was in a perfect position that I could target easily enough, locking my aim just below the back of her head, right above the first four cervical vertebrae of her spine; if I aimed correctly, she'd be spared ever knowing what hit her. My finger was itching to apply the amount of pressure that could end this chase, but just as I was about to squeeze the trigger, the breath I'd been preparing to release with my bullet whooshed out from me at the sudden sound of a small, almost cat-like cry coming from the bushes ahead. A fawn revealed itself soon after the doe who must be it's mother called back, trotting out from it's hiding to greet the her like a puppy with it's white little tail fluttering behind. I faltered at the sight of this speckled little fawn touching noses with it's mother, gently nudged it with her snout with what I couldn't help but feel was motherly affection. I didn't doubt this young offspring was still completely dependant off it's mother by how tiny it still seemed. Thinking back to the doe's odd trail it led me through, it now made sense that she had tried to negate whatever had scared her from the direction of her awaiting baby that had been so nearby, even if it had put her in danger, especially the open route she ran. _Smart girl_, I couldn't help but think as the corner of my mouth twitched.

The fawn scuttled it's way over to suckle from it's mother hungrily, giving her the opportunity to raise her broad neck and scan the nearby surroundings. Ducking back behind the bushes, I was lucky to escape her scutiny as it seemed she hadn't spotted anything out of sort yet and allowed her offspring to nurse. Scorning myself, I rounded back around the bushes and realigned my shot. I didn't come all this way just to pussy out. Yet when I willed my finger to pull back, I just couldn't bear down on the trigger to disrupt these two. This fawn was still so young, if I killed it's mother, I'd might as well kill it myself- no doubt shooting it after would be a mercy rather than to starve or be eaten by another. The consequences of this shot eroded at my heart, surprised by the sting behind my eyes at the sight before me. This doe had to have endured carrying her offspring in her womb during the winter, to birth it into the wild and care for it with her own life- and this choked me up somehow. I could cease these lives all at the dispense of my decision. Reminded by my own close call by the river, I cringed at how roles were reversed, and I was the deliberator of mercy. Those men, all three of them could have easily shot me down and I'm sure it wouldn't leave scratch across their concious and wouldn't lose a bit of sleep over my existance. But they had allowed me to escape, leaving my fate to the rapids instead.

Growling at myself, I lowered the gun down at my side, hanging my head back while gnawing over my lower lip in exasperation at what I knew I was planning to do. This would have definately been quite a meal, even if I wouldn't be able to savor every piece of her considering I wouldn't be able to carry her _and _her fawn back with me. _All this way for nothing_, I thought a bit regretfully, but I couldn't will myself to take out this delicate balance of life. Todd had once stopped Merle from shooting a doe much to the man's disgruntlement, claiming some needed to be spared for the next generation. This was back when I was still learning how to shoot and I had always suspected Todd had done this just to censor me. Merle seemed to share my suspicions and hadn't resist the next confrontation to throwing back at us, calling Todd _soft_, but I remember always admiring my man's consideration, even if it hadn't been for the deer. And now, I would find myself using this excuse to justify my reluctance to shooting down this mother and fawn. To ensure this decision, I deliberately crunched my foot over a twig, snapping it in half loud enough to freeze the doe where she stood, her ears all but stood at attention to twitch backwards in my direction for the briefest moment before pulling away from her youngling suckling. She all but stomped to urge the fawn along with her before bounding off into the brush together, out of shooting range.

"G'damnit," I muttered. But I couldn't deny I felt unapologetic for sparing a mother and her child as I retreated to check on my snares like I had orginally planned and atone for this lost catch.

* * *

It was a foggy morning, the sun leaked lazily through the mist as the day's overcast hovered like a wraith low enough even below the sheltering branches, dampening my bangs to my face and chilling the air usually beginning to warm up this time of day. Yesterday I came across a few back-water houses residing relatively close to each other amongst the wilderness, one two-story in particular had stairs close to crumbling due to the numerous bullet afflictions peppering the shamble of a house. Whoever had hit this place up was packing big with enough ammunition to spare by the looks of their jackhammering on the house's brick walls and hardwood stairs. Amidst the ruins, I'd found a yellowbook below the kitchen sick cabinet that's plumbing had also been damaged in the cross-fire. Blowing off the debri and dust coating the book that most likely hadn't been touched in ages- even before everything went down- and I admired that someone still had one of these in the age of smartphones and google. Flipping through the local add pages, I found myself finding the daycare section. Since coming across the doe and her offspring she'd been protecting, it was like being served a spoonfull of wake-the-fuck-up. I needed to get the over this felling-sorry-for-myself charade and man up, take care of what needed being done; which at the moment, was the desperate need of supplies. I had to start preparing before I rolled into my later trimestor in several more months and seriously doubted I would be in any condition to go out on anymore runs. Trying to draw from my experiance of raising Jemma, I concluded I would of course need to be on the look out for clothes- I'd be due mid-August if I calculated correctly and the chill of fall would soon begin it's slow creep over Georgia once September rolled by. Medicine would also be ideal. In a modern age, I knew the sicknesses an infant can easily catch, especially those an unvaccinated newborn could undergo which I knew would be another impending battle even if I made it through the pregnancy. And _formula_, shit. Of course breast feeding was convienant, but I tried to keep in mind I couldn't bet my whole hand on it. With the little food I was able to obtain as it was, who knew if it would be nourishing enough to continue living as I could while supplementing a nursing baby. It wasn't unknown that a mother could only produce enough milk for her newborn under proper health conditions, so I planned to prepare ahead for any hinderances, having no idea how I'd even go about hunting or scavenging with a newborn to look after and keep silent..._ I couldn't afford any consequences_.

Able to recognize the address was in Spalding county, a town only about a hour or so walk from my current location if I decided to try the closest one. Taking the thick book with me, I ripped off the back page that had a general map of Georgia that could come in hand, even if it wasn't very detailed. The next day, I prepared an empty bag and headed west to navigated myself close enough to the highway where I was relieved to see the road was too conjested of pile-ups for any hopes of cars making it through.

Eventually I made it to Griffin, a town I could recall Todd once telling me about on one their raids this far out in the red zone... _"Just another town- small cities I thought were back in Cali don't got shit on some of these hick towns here". _It was spaced out well off the highway in a dirt road that led for quite some time before you found this town's main and only street. This little town was more like a block of small-time buisnesses besides a minature grocery store and a bank. Scouting the outer perimeter wasn't exactly dueable with how open the terrain was here, the woods having receeded a long ways back down the road leading out. From a distance, it didn't look swarmed and I had only come across a handfull of Biters on my way in, so I hurried duck behind a car left parked at the city's edge. It was tricky manuevering amongst this tiny retail strip of the city trying to find cover, and anything I did find was far from anything else in between, having to sprint quite a distance out in the open just to proceed. On pins and needles, I clenched Todd's sickle fixedly and cursed at hearing a distinctive dragging of footsteps and a muffle groan that wared me I'd been spotted trying to run behind a Chrysler van positioned near a store entrance with it's windows already busted in. Only hearing the one so far, I waited from my hiding to see if it would overlook me. Even though I expected it, this Biter made me jump when it rounded the car and shrieked for me, already lunging forward with it's teeth bared behind lips were missing that had been chewed off. Lashing out before it's greedy hands could grab a better hold of my pant leg that was tucked in my boot, I tugged it loose before the curved blade hacked over it's windpipe cleaved the vertebrae, thwacking it's head clean off it's shoulders. Still chattering it's teeth trying to take a snap at my feet where the still animated head had rolled, I kicked out to send it skitting away from me down the sidewalk like some soccer ball, leaving a bloody skid mark across the pavement.

Sliding back from behind the hood of the van I was crouched behind, I grimaced to see two more that were coming to investigate what had attracted their fellow infected. Resisting the urge to miss my silent long range shooting, I waited again patiently for them to come to me. Hammering the end of the blade down in the first Biter's face, the sickle buriying into a skull I hadn't expected was so rotted, severing brain matter as easily as slicing into a decaying peach, the tip of curved steel sliding through the other side of this woman's skull up to the hilt. Anticipating the next one that had been right behind, I didn't have enough time to jerk my sickle back out, instead reaching for the pocket knife tucked in my boot, rearing up to jam it under the jaw, closing it's mouth for it. Stepping out of the way of the corpse's falling body, I rolled it back over to extract my knife, slipping it back inside my shoe to rest against my ankle and proceeded to hold down the head of the other under my heel to jerk the curved blade back out, splattering brain tissue out of it's gashed in face. Fingering the green rag out from under my belt, it was practically stained brown by now but it was in good enough condition to clean the blood and pieces of brain still clinging to the sharp edge of my sickle. With the street clear for now, I crept to look over the stores but none resembling any kind of school or daycare. Getting a good enough glance at the street sign when I came to the end of the row, I recognized the addresses didn't match up like I had hoped so it must have been an add for somewhere outside the main part of town. Sighing, there was no way I was about to comb all of Spalding, despite how small it was, or at least plan it out a more thoroughly search for another day considering I wasn't nearly as prepared to take on a run so prestigious on my own.

There were two other dirt roads leading from this little shopping strip back into the bordering trees besides the road I'd used leading from the highway. Glancing up to measure the daylight, I determined I had started early enough today that I could make time checking at least a couple nearby places before heading back to inspect the condition of my snares. Having no clue about either road, I ennie-meanie-minie-moed which direction I'd take, sticking to traveling the the outer-lining of trees rather than the open dirt road. Passing a few houses, I peeped in through the windows but nothing looked out of sort but the regular empty, dusty interiors most likely left untouched all fall through winter.

It wasn't until maybe half a mile down the road was my attention drawn to a tan one-story house. It looked just like any other home ever few yards back despite, it's front yard gated all the way around to the back- but it was the tall dome-looking monkey bars that caught my attention, the top half peeking over the chain link fence that was getting over grown by it's hedging. Making my way closer to get a better look, I could also see a swing set and a race car spring seat that looked so unused the seats were caked with dust and the skeletal-like remains of fallen leaves. Using the sickle, I hacked back the brush growing over the fence and eventually found the latch to open the gate- ironically using it for it's intended purpose for once- and slipped quietly through the gate. Walking a bit apprehensively through the front lawn, this place had every sign of abandonment contrary to the equipment meant to be played with. Ancient branches that had fallen a season ago looked to have been blown around the yard and caught into the mesh-like sphere of monkey bars with no one around to clear them away. The blinds were all rolled up from the inside which perturbed me, remembering back to the news and radio broadcasts before they all went off the air, boarding up your windows and doors had been one of the first thing they'd been instructing people to do. All windows were also still intact in the front allowing me to peer inside to see I could possibly have hit the jack pot. Anxious to turn the place upside down, I scurried to the back, keeping my blade close while rounding the corner from the side of the house to the backyard where there was another rusted up swing set and an untouched sand box. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness at all the various toys I had to step around; I imagined there had once laughter to be heard here but was now completely vacated of any children from here for quite some time ago. Other than the little girl sitting on the swing nearby, I was greeted by nothing but silence and the occasional croak of the woods, so I tried to just blink away her hair blowing with the soft wind at the corner of my sight and focused to see if there was any _real_ wallking dead. Finding the back door to lean against, I tested the handle of the backdoor, not surprised to find it locked. Even with my intentions to skewer Merle six ways till Sunday, he'd taught me a few old tricks of his he'd picked up in his juvie days that I could still put to use, recalling the old bastards resourcefulness I fished out the knife tucked into my boot. Flipping open the smaller blade, I slid it inbetween the door frame, shimmying the blade back and forth to pry it under the lock. After a few irksome tries, I was able to concentrate more patiently until I felt the click of the knife and hurried to brace the door against the frame while I tried to push the lock tongue out of the frame's socket. Pulling the door back tight against the frame, I slowly lifting the knife to pull the door open by the knob, smirking in triumph when it turned all the way. Before pushing the door completely open, I glanced back to see Penny was no longer watching from the swing set; I wasn't sure if I felt more lonely or relieved about this before I closed the door behind me.

Like peeling back a piece of duct tape from a scabbed over wound, I held my breath and tried to brace myself for whatever painful sight I could see inside. _Nothing you haven't already seen at some point_. But when I slinked inside, all was quiet- even cleanish. Minature colored tables were set up around the room, coloring books still open and turned to unfinished pages with various crayons or markers selected out of their boxes to use, a few had rolled off and across the hard wood floor. A few toy shelves were still semi-organized, not all of the barbies or stuffed animals put back in their places but left across the rainbow colored play mats. Before getting letting my excitement carry away any vigilance, I bypassed the room to look more directly down hallway leading from the front of the house, conscience of my footsteps, I tip-toed quietly across the hardwood floors. With three rooms to each wall, I crept quiet but quickly to scout out the rooms to see if any dead had been enclosed inside. Just as I was beginning to feel enlightened there could be a house without death, a familiar scent of something rotten tinged the air the closer I got to one of the rooms at the end. Todd's sickle was ready in my grasp, poised to strike out at anything that could bumrush me and waited pressed up against the wall just outside the room I suspected held the culprit of the smell, listening for any indication of dead- or maybe even living. After a long few moments of silence, I spun around the door frame to face inside the open door way.

It was then the tape was ripped clean off rather than peeled, and the scab I tried every time to heal over my memories was torn off yet again. The body of a child laid across the floor in a dried up puddle of her own blood, every ounce seemed to have leaked out to stain the wood flooring, a trail of dark brown smeared behind where it looked she had once tried to crawl. Laying face down, I wouldn't have been able to tell if it was a little girl if it weren't for the purple dress she wore and matching bow clipped in her dark matted hair. My heart clenched painfully and I had to bite back a pathetic sob when I began to realize her head was slowly rising to look up from the floor and through her tangled hair at who had found her. Little fingers began to twitch as this weak Biter tried to push herself up, a slow, raspy cry coming from the girl who's face I could barely make out behind the hair in her face, but it sounded so tiny I almost would've thought it was still a little girl whimpering. But in the next moment, she fisted her hands against the floor and tried to pull herself forward, dragging her legs that tried to twitch awake behind her. The girl's hair slipped back out of her face and I felt my breath hitch in my constricting wind pipe at her milky white eyes narrowing at me, her decaying teeth leering at me behind another weak ghost-like gasp. _And the gaping wound continued to bleed all over what had been trying to heal._

Flashes of Penny plagued me while I tried to will myself to put this girl to rest; her bright liquid eyes dimming like the day they had in my arms and a cloud of disease rolled over her pupils the way I pictured in my nightmares while trickled of blood leaked from the corner of lips. Trying to close my eyes to block out these hovering hallucinations, but all I could see were dead little girls, remembering my little sister when she was so fragile at this age, now only a shadow of her former self as it contorted and the flesh was ripped from her rosy cheeks, blood splattering over paling eyes. Momentarily overwhelmed, never had these horrors came at me so maddeningly and I rushed forward, paniked to make them stop. Before the red behind my eyes could consume me, I did the only thing that came instinctual to me anymore.

Panting and shaking, I swung the sickle down over this panarama of dead faces, hacking the blade down over and over until I began to realize the crimson devouring at my sanity was more real than I thought. What stopped my arms from swinging was the bile that rose in the back of my throat, causing my weapon to slip out from my fingers when my stomach overcame me. Quivering and holding my head against the creeping headache threatening to arise in my temples, I spit out what was left to heave and wiped the feverish sweat from my brow. When I could finally sniff back the snot and tears I hadn't even realized I'd been shedding, I looked back up to see the mush of what was once skull and brain dripped across the floor and I hurried to step back before it could run under my shoes. Upset about the terrible fit I'd just had and disturbed at how fucking crazy I just acted, I hurried out of the room and closed the door behind me, not bothering to search through it.

Trying to keep my mind off dead children, I plowed on, sliding the mask of numbness back over my heart while I made my way to the front room of the house where I was greatful to see all was clear. The front seemed to be a little more upheveled, shelves looked completely bare like toys shoved off everywhere, a drawing white-board easel tipped over on its side and any previous dry-marker drawings were practically erased off. A tv was still elevated from the corner of the room hanging off a stand, turned off and useless like most screens were after the Outbreak's black out, same as the vhs tapes stacked up on a shelf forgotten in their cases. What was also most noticeable, to me at least, were the arts and craft pictures all up along the periwinkle-blue painted walls. Colorful handprints from small little petite hands decorated the walls, the names of who they had once belonged to scribbled over the paint they'd chosen- no doubt all dead by now. The cribs I had seen previously seen through the window were lined up against the wall and under the artwork as well, but only held empty sheets laying behind the bars. Kneeling by cupboards, I began to quickly rummage through each one individually while keeping an ear out for any disturbances throughout the house. The cabinets above a sink had a bottle of baby tylenol, some Spongebob character bandaids and some packets of alcohol wipes which I was thankful to stuff into my bag considering I almost used the rest of my peroxide. Pulling open another cupboard, I was greeted by a stack of diapers, a few disposable nursing bottles and wash clothes nobody bothered to grab, taking this to add to my collection. Remembering how many packs of goddamn diapers Jemma used to go through before she was finally pottey-trained, I took note I would definately need to invest in gathering as many of these as I could before the baby came.

As I transitioned amongst the rooms I collected everything I could recognize or thought might be useful for an infant, packing baby powder, a dried up already opened back of wipes. Locating which room looked to have been a kitchen-type area, I was also able to find a cupboard of powdered baby formula with a tuberware container of binkies and a shelf of plastic plates. Unable to suppress a ghost of a smile, I added the cans and miscellaneous baby supplies into my bag.

After scouring the whole daycare-converted house and stowing away whatever I could dig up that was useful but worth taking up the room in my bag, I had to contend this would be all I'd be able to take from this house and I'd just have to continue keeping on the look out for more to add in the future. I could have continued up the road and taken a peek at what some other houses might have since this place seemed so untouched by looters yet, but I still had my snares to check and if they were unsuccessful I would have to use the rest of the day to fish. So I left the house, not turning around to give it a last glance in case I saw another little girl.

It didn't take me as long to make my way back, remembering the direction I'd already come from without anymore incident but a few Biters I wasn't nearly as emotional about taking out as I had been back at the house. Once I finally made it back to the part of the woods I liked to think was my turf, I began to keep my eyes open for my familar markings along the trees. The squirell traps I usually recieved the most luck with were bare however, each tree I climbed was empty and the wires left untouched along it's branches.

However, it was when I went to check a thick patch of brush I had set up my rabbit snares was I stilled in my tracks before I brushed back the bramble. There was a terribly loud popping and squelching coming from behind the bushes, I couldn't make out what could be making such a noise but all I could think of how disturbing it sounded and I grew wary to approach any further. This time, taking the rifle hanging from around my shoulder, I aligned it up with my sight and tried to keep it relaxed but prepared against my shoulder to target in on any unknown I was about to step and investigate. A biter was hunched on it's knees, bent over on all fours feeding over a bleeding carcass. My stomach did a somersault and plummeted, recognizing it was feeding off a doe that even laying dead it's foot was still tethered and bleeding in the snare it had been caught it. Right beside the large meal the Biter was distracted by, another much smaller carcass was splayed out and had bled all over the grass underneath, only a ripped apart skeleton who's bones had practically been picked clean of flesh, but the small head of the fawn was still intact enough for me to recognize the doe's offspring had already been devoured.

Nothing deflated my moral more than seeing the mother deer being feasted upon, it's flank already having taken huge chunks ripped from it while it's stomach had been torn open while the Biter devoured it's innerards- the sound I had heard from earlier had been it's obsessive chewing. Lowering my gun slowly in revulsion, I pulled out my sickle instead. Feeling terribly sorry for this doe, I wondered if it was the same mother and child I had seen before. Having spared the mother to raise her fawn, I now felt horrified this had been their end. By the looks of it, the doe had most likely beeing caught in my snare, the fawn lingering to remain with it's trapped mother. Seeing that the fawn must have been devoured before it's mother, I realized she must have had to watch her offspring eaten alive, unable to aid or escape before falling to the dead's clutches herself. I stood stunned in my horror of these creatures cut down so brutally, this Biter had no care for the purity of motherhood, only caring about the flesh of those engorging it so generously.

_Sick or not, this motherfucker needed to die_, I thought, discarding all reservations I used to hold for the infected and beheaded the sick fuck while it was taking another mouthfull of a kidney it was pulling out from the doe's gaping underbelly. Stomping my boot hatefully down onto the face of the still animated head, I ceased anymore feasting to be had here. _What a waste_. A deer I could have just killed myself, spared it such a miserable death and could have used it to feed myself instead of this dead asshole. And not only that, but this tiny creature, the infant deer's life was silenced before it's mother could raise it to outgrow her. Flesh was flesh to this world, and I'm sure innocent tasted all appetizing.

I was too busy mourning what could very easily be my fate, I hadn't noticed the presense that had been watching this whole time. And it wasn't until I was tackled and flattened-out across the ground did I realize my fate could easily be ended just as easily as the dead deer I was thrown beside.

* * *

_ I'm terriblyyyy sorry for how long this update took! I had a lot of financial bullshit to deal with and such that it took me a while to finish this. But whew! Hope you enjoyed this! Anybody seeing what this is leading up to ;]? Hate to cut you off here, but I'm on spring break now (why two weeks after Easter, I'll never know) so I should be getting the next chapter up for you all much quicker. Yes, yes, omg Olive's going fucken crazy haha. But in all seriousness, I debated this a lot, and for her to be living alone for so long I'm sure she's bound to experiance some degree of PTSD. Now I'm not down to create another Rick here, but I wanted to introduce the effects one would go through after so much time spent by themselves, I mean look what happened to Morgan?_

_I can't believe the season's over! I have no idea what to do on Sunday nights anymore :[ (Season Finale Spoiler) I was so sad to see Milton killed off, I really would've thought it'd be interesting if he came back with the prison and joined the group like the others, but ohhhh well. RIP Milton- and Andrea, but I had a hunch about them about to boot her off so I didn't feel as shocked, but it was an amazing episode none-the-less. _

_ Special shout out to all my reviewers, I love each of you and everything you all have to say just inspires me to keep going with this story. And more thanks to those who are following and favoriting this story. _

_ The intro lyrics and inspiration for this chapter derive from Lana Del Rey's "Dark Paradise", I advise a listen- not just for this fanfiction but that woman has such a beautiful voice and her lyrics just blow my mind. And the lullaby I mention Olive can hear Penny singing is Bye, Baby Bunting. It's actually the lullaby the Governor was singing while brushing her hair and is the tune he whistles while he goes after Andrea all creeper like. Interesting fact if you didn't know. _


	7. Chapter 7

_"There are things that I said I would never do_

_There are fears that I cannot believe have come true_

_For my soul is too sick and too little and too late_

_And myself I have grown too weary to hate."_

Chapter Seven

There was no air left in my lungs to scream after it was knocked right out of me as I was sent flying flat on my back across the forest floor, coughing when I couldn't cry out with the gun and bag digging into my back. Deciphering my attacker through a film of terror, I found myself staring up at a shadow pinning me on my back. The sickle had skittered feet away out of my grasp from being so abruptly winged and was nowhere to be reached. Bucking up in panic, I thrashed my arms up in time to catch the handle of a heavy-edged hatchet that I'd blocked with my forearm only a few inches from bludgeoning down into my face before quickly reaching up to help push back with my other hand. Gritting my teeth from yelping at the effort of trying to hold back the gleaming edge of my this attacker's thick blade, I was sickeningly aware how easily this intended log-splitter could cleave through wood let alone my flesh. Squirming a hand up to try gripping something of this person's face while we wrestled for the weapon, I raked my nails across whatever I could reach before they turned their head away to yell nothing I could distinguish. Finding my breath, I hadn't been aware I'd been screaming until it was smacked clean out of my mouth when he brought a fist down over my cheek to silence my protests. Winded momentarily, I was half-conscious when he wrenched the handle out of my stunned grasp but was fully aware of him beginning to rear up the ax for another strike. Watching wide-eyed as the blade caught a glint of sunlight that escaped the overhead branches as it poised about to bash down over me, I thrashed with frantic urgency, curling away as I saw it flash down to imbed into the dirt hardly an inch from my head. No matter how hard I tried to dismount his knees from digging sharply into my thighs the assailant refused to budge as he cursed down at my struggle, yanking the hatchet back to try a third time. While still flailing hysterically to escape the hovering hatchet, I wasn't as successful when the next time it came down much closer as I was slashed with white-hot pain into my shoulder- dangerously close to my neck. A strangled screech scratched my throat at the foreign object plunged in my shoulder as a scalding heat paralyzed me, shooting down my whole arm and up into my neck. Feeling almost consumed by such an intense pain and a roaring terror, I could have ruptured with despair at such an impending end. _Oh God, _this _is how I'm going out_, I thought mortified. Hacked up like a Biter in the woods. _Like the dead mother lying beside me_. Inconsiderate of my engulfing anguish, the ax-edge was dislodged from my flesh in a harsh yank, causing me to tearfully wail the first panicked thought in my head as he raised it back up-

"Please- I'm _pregnant_!"

It was never a tactic I used; I was always so careful to conceal any evidence of my protruding bump because it seemed pregnancy just gave off too much of a helpless impression that instigated those who preyed and took advantage of the lingering weak. _Men like Philip didn't give a damn who anyone was standing inbetween their means of survival._ But I took a shot in the dark and attempted to appeal to this stranger's better nature, because at this point, helpless was what I was. The hatchet was stilled momentarily, poised to swing down over my head in a shuddering grip. At a pause, I was able to find the assaulter's gaze could finally make out the dark face of the man who had ambushed me. But I didn't have much time to think over what he looked like before his hands returned to encircle their grip around my neck, tightly squeezing down over my throat. My heart leapt up in my wind pipe, fear pressing tears into my eyes as I desperately tried to pry his hands off with my free hands, pounding my fists down on his arms and digging at the fingers clutching at me, hissing against the searing in my shoulder and the air being throttled out from me.

"You with them?" he shouted in my face, a feral glint in his dark eyes as he emphasized each word with a tight squeeze, hardly letting me gasp out an answer while he shook me by the throat like a rag doll. "Are you with _them_?!"

"N-no- please," I wheezed while trying to choke back air between his constricting hands, my legs still kicking and my body writhing underneath him. "I'm not with _anyone_!"

With a disdainful curse, he let go of my throat and I was finally allowed to cough and heave a gaspful of air, my hands reached instinctually to nurse my compressed wind pipe. The hatchet fell back down and I shuddered at the resounding thud that shook the ground, unable to prevent a scream of unrestrained fear and my arms flailed out in front of me in a last pathetic attempt to shield myself from a mortal pummeling. But when I peeked open my eyes after a moment of nothing, the blade was sheathed into the earth beside my face where I'd shrunk away from the befalling weapon. The man was breathing almost as heavily as I was, though mine were more like pants distorted by sobs I was trying to suppress against the pain churning with a pulsating terror through my every fiber. I involunarily flinched when he brought his hand down towards me, leaning back on my thighs to place it over my stomach through the jacket that had bunched up over the curve of my abdomen in my thrashing, revealing only an old shirt of mine I wore underneath that had now tightened around my midriff and showed a sliver of skin. Shrinking away like a cowardly animal, my breathing was loud as I whimpered and gulped for air cowering against this man's almost tenative hand that rested over my stomach for a moment, as if inspecting the evidence to determine if I really was telling the truth.

After retracting his hand, he sunk back on his heels, exhaustion shadowing his features before he picked the hatchet back up, retreating to rise to his feet but never letting his eyes linger from my movements. Every muscle in my body was shaking at the intensity of pain radiating up my shoulder, but fear was much more overpowering as I scrambled back the second his weight released off my legs. Scurrying on my back, I had to grit my teeth as my shoulder was jostled but hissed through the strain to sling the gun that had been pinned under my back around to aim back at the man who had just been moments from axing into me like I was some Biter. This seemed to straighten the man's posture as his glare blackened, if that was even possible, and his grip over the handle of his hatchet tightened in what must be resentment at relinquishing his advantage so easily. Now able to get a better look at my attacker, I noticed his dark-toned skin was slick with sweat and those wild eyes of his made me recoil back from their intimidating animosity and inwardly winced at seeing blood mixing with the man's perspiration that was now running down the side of his face from scratches I had given him. Flickering over his appearance briefly, it threw me to see he was wearing a sun-bleached looking cobalt jumpsuit- _penitentiary_ clothing, remembering the familiar attire I used to see my mother wearing if I ever visited her while she did time.

My arm quaked under the weight of the rifle, causing me to heavily support my aim with my other arm holding the barrel which was hardly steadier due to stuttering breathes I was trying to allow adrenaline soothe my mettle. Feeling warmth trickle out onto my torn jacket to soak into the already scuffed and dirtied fabric, it dripped down my arm under my sleeve. I knew I hardly looked the imagine of intimidation but I felt prepared to shoot this motherfucker who would've bashed me over the head like some log for a camp fire only a moment ago. _But he didn't._ I willed my hands to just press the trigger already, but the sudden whisper over my thoughts stilled my hand like it had against the doe and her fawn. He hadn't let me get up for the chase by the looks of his rugged state, so I hesitated to wonder if he had been about to spare me. _The way I had shown mercy to the mother and her offspring._

"Put it down," I rasped, hearing how husky my voice sounded gritting against the profound discomfort stretching all the way down to shake my fingers straining on the trigger. Though I attempted to play the part anyways, motioning with the end of my gun for him to throw it from reach. I could see his jaw tightening as his glare bore into me as frighteningly as the ax he'd bludgeoned into my shoulder, unnerving me even if he had just exposed a hint of humanity. Slowly, it seemed to ache him to lower his weapon until he eventually tossed it, but not nearly as far as I'd wanted him to. My stomach twisted to see the blunt end streaked by my own blood.

"I'm not with anyone," I breathed again, willing my voice to refrain from breaking. "I-I don't care about you, man. Just leave."

Gulping back my pleading tone anxiously, I saw his eyes flickering back and forth between me and the shaking rifle; a predator assessing if I was prey. Narrowing my eyes, I forced myself to clench the gun tighter to my injured shoulder, stilling my aim and finger positioned to squeeze over the trigger as I sat up straighter. Grinding my teeth to suppress the pain that tugged at my arm when I rushed to clamber back up on my feet, but I never astrayed the barrel of my rifle too far away from the direction of this stranger as I found my footing against the wooziness that spun my head for a moment. His eyes seemed to grow wilder at my rise, noting the way his hand twitched for the surrendered weapon. I braved to take a step forward meant to be threatening, remembering how Todd, Merle, or even Philip used to stand so unshakably between nothing but death or bullets uncountable times and tried to draw from that type of strength. This seemed to yield him for the moment, his gaze flashing to the finger I was tightening against the trigger.

"I ain't leavin' 'til I get what's mine," he countered menacingly. This stilled me with a horrible shiver before I realized he wasn't focused on me but the ripped open deer next to us. My eyebrow arched in revulsion, but to be honest, I couldn't care what kind of request he made, as long as it didn't include me cleaved in half.

"It's infected," I exclaimed before internally kicking myself. "But by all means take it, it's your's."

Now back on my feet, I located the sickle tossed across the grass out of the corner of my eye not too far from us. Testing my authority, I took a few side steps towards the discarded weapon, never relenting my sight from the man at the end of my scope At my movement, he took his own step closer to the hatchet, stilling the both of us as I gesticulated another warning with my gun. A common language everyone seemed to understand these days. Like a tantalizing dance, we both tried to edge closer to our weapons lying on the grass, testing how much ground the other would let go. Pain was flaring through my arm and I was no fool to believe I'd be able to support the gun with my firing arm alone if I bent down to retrieve my sickle.

"You know what kinda gun this is?" I was afraid this guy hadn't even heard my ghost of a voice that sounded hardly louder than a whisper, but I cleared my throat and attempted to continue. "It's semi-automatic."

Our eyes locked again at this; his glistened with vehemence and I knew he regretted his moment of weakness to spare me. Internally, I felt a little guilty turning on such a gesture, but was still pissed he'd just been about to kill me. _And the last part of Todd would have extinguished with me._

"Fires off a single round," I muttered, nipping at the inside of my lip to glare at his hand twitch down for the hatchet that must be beckoning as loud as mine. "Or I can unclip a whole mag if it comes down to it."

This stilled him for a moment, but not his gaze as we both eyed each other silently, only the shake of my heavy breathing could be heard amongst the suddenly silent forest as I stared back through the lens of the M16 while trying to contain the prickling tears in the corners of my eyes against the pain radiating through me. I knew I sounded far from threatening, but it seemed I sent the message adequately enough as he stopped to glare over at my intent.

"Do it then," he snapped back, catching me off guard with his indifferent frustration. "Bitch, you even _know_ how to pull that trigger?"

Shaking off my confoundment to glare back, I grimaced at probably having to pull the trigger on this guy considering how doubtful he was regarding me-

But what I hadn't predicted was how suddenly he would retaliate, lunging for his weapon first. Started, I sputtered to react and fired off a shot, but my aim was thwarted when I had to dive out of the way as he lurched for me, his hatchet hurling down into the earth I had just been standing in. Hissing at my miserably aching shoulder while I rolled across the grass to escape anymore hacking, I scrambled to flip back around before he could raise his weapon to attempt another swing, my finger holding the trigger down on his ass. Cartridge shells littered the ground in my rapid fire, but with such a jarring kick back against my arm I couldn't hold up for long before I felt my grip about to give way with every jerk against my shoulder, my aim lowering feebly as I attempted following him skirting behind a nearby tree. Eventually, my finger released it's hold on the trigger as I tried searching out what had become of my attacker through the gun powder and smoke fogging up the forest clearing. Hesitant at the sudden disappearance, I shakily snatched up the discarded sickle and hurried back to my feet.

About to make a run for it through the smoke, I heard the footsteps before I even turned around to see the dark assailant charging my way, his hatchet already in mid swing. Stumbling back at what seemed to have been my last possible second, I witnessed the blunt edge gleam past my face close enough to feel the wisp of air it emitted across my cheeks. The power of this man's swings were heavy and fortunately slow, giving me the advantage of time after parrying his strike to bolt past him, jumping over the deer carcass while he uprooted the heavy blade. Knowing I was in no position to fight off this asshole, I knew escaping was my best chance and it was what I knew best; but running was much more exhausting than I had anticipated when my shoulder pulled achingly with every stride. Half-hazardly turning back mid-sprint, I shot off a few more shots, not bothering to aim too accurately but hoping maybe I'd get a stray shot in or at least deter him from pursuing me further. Only hearing my heartbeat ringing against the waves of blood rushing in my ears and my breathless panting, the forest was silenced no doubt by the sudden gun shots which made my stumbling footsteps all the louder- also allowing me to hear approaching, distinctive groans.

"_Fuck_!" I cursed miserably. My previous gun fire must have beckoned the dead- and the scent of fresh blood in the air was another mortifying thought. Trembling feverishly, I wasn't sure if it was from the terror of this close encounter, my gaping shoulder, or the enclosing Biters, but I had to gulp back a consuming panic so I could think straight enough. Trying to keep from slowing my pace considering I was still being chased, I raised the rifle to try picking off those closest in my path of escape, popping off a shot into one's clavicle and another skimmed through a cheek before I finally steadied my aim enough to land a head shot. Cartridge shells trailed behind me as I ran, picking off a few others but hating how much ammo I was wasting trying to land kill shots with every tendon and ligament in my arm screaming. With my right arm hardly able to hold the gun still and raised, I was doubtful I'd be able to even wield the sickle against Biters beginning to wander towards the source of the commotion, having to resign to such a loud defense. Glancing back, I was brought to an abrupt stop at seeing the man who had just previously been charging at me like some psycho lumberjack, had halted a ways back and was staring wide-eyed toward the oncoming undead.

Our eyes caught each other's again- and my jaw dropped as I watched him begin to take a step back, retracting his weapon before turning to sprint back into the woods and yell out over his shoulder. "_Shit_ lady- you on'ya own!"

His pale faded-blue jumpsuit disappeared into the forest's shadows, not sparing me a second glance back. _Leaving me alone at the head of these converging corpses. _Securing the retrieved sickle through my belt, I reared the rifle back up and took aim. It was sloppy shooting, but I managed to kill a few before my shoulder begun to seize too painfully to keep up, turning to high tail it back the direction I'd watched my attacker run in, but veered off west instead to avoid any retaliation he could still be out for. My fingertips were tingling with a numbness I kept trying to clench out of my grip as I ran, reaching my left hand to squeeze over my pulsating shoulder to support against every movement that tore at my open wound. While trying to run back towards the safety of my tree, willing to ride out a mob amongst the treetops, but as I tried making my way south I could see more drawing from the woods blocking my desired route and there were too many to pick away for me to run through. Pushed further west, I decided to run back the direction I'd come from earlier this morning, remembering the highway this way littered with nothing but abandoned or crashed cars.

Using my technique from the raid a few weeks ago, I attempted to dwindle the numbers of those pursuing behind me, weaving throughout the woodland and picking away a few at a time; however, unlike the previous time, I didn't have my advantage of quiet artillery and wasn't nearly as fast due to the pull of fatigue weighing heavier from blood loss. I shook my head to try clearing some of the blurring edges of my vision, trees and brush smearing past me while I huffed past another dizzy spell that confused my equilibrium and threatened to overwhelm me as I ran. Reaching out, I knocked against the closest tree to clench it's bark lethargically keeping my feet from fumbling underneath me. Catching a glimpse of my hand after it pulled away from my shoulder, I saw blood soaked over my fingers and was disconcerted by how much must be gushing to streak them so heavily in crimson. However, this did incite an idea as I began to wipe my slick hand off on the tree's bark I supported myself against, uncaring about the scrape under my palms while staining the trunk. Reaching out almost blindly among the haze of landscape swirling around me, I felt myself fall against the next tree I could cling to. Pressing my hand back over my shoulder, I could feel the warmth of more blood seeping through torn flesh and re-soaked my fingers to bring them back up to smudge across another tree. Continuing to slop blood across various other trees I collapsed against, I gathered up my remaining loose threads of my strength and pushed forward, trudging one foot in front of the other to spur myself ahead of the advancing dead. It felt very much like climbing, pulling myself from one tree trunk to the next tree with my good arm, so much so that the ground had to remind me I was running rather than up in the treetops. Glimpsing over my shoulder at the hungry, I blanched at seeing a few had stopped at the blood-soiled trees, clawing and batttling against each other with the same attraction to such fresh fluid and lapped ravenously at the traces of my injury. Those who couldn't get through the crowds or felt I was a better prospect continued after me, but I at least definitely slowed up the dense dead.

Forcing myself to push through the fog of my consciousness, I attempted to keep track of my markings amongst the swirl of my surroundings and it came down to following the shadow of a little girl to lead my way. I couldn't see her any better amongst the blur of everything else, but it was the whisper that beckoned me after her silhouette. _Keep going, Olive. You have to keep going. _The forest floor beneath my poorly functioning feet eventually turned to pavement as I began to realize Penny (or so I guessed?) was leading me towards the highway. At some point I became aware I'd stopped running and was now resting my head against the trunk of a car I hadn't realized I'd laid against to catch my breath. Still aware of my condition, I knew I was feeling the cold grasp of hypovolemic shock threatening to overtake my body, my impaired strength being an obvious sign my blood pressure was dropping- which meant I had to hurry and treat this wound before it took us down with it.

_Us._

Digging my hand into my shoulder, I goaded myself to keep moving- this time using my hand to press up against the wound but to prevent anymore blood from dripping along after me. My heartbeat was still fast in my ears, but nowhere as loud. I had to just keep remembering there was an _us_ instead of _I_. It was unpreventable that my wounded arm should jostle excruciatingly, but I crouched as carefully as my rush would permit below an abandoned car parked to the side and squirmed under to reach for the gas tank underneath, thumping it to hear a disappointing hollowness. Fortunate to have found the traffic snarl I had passed up earlier, I proceeded to search the vehicles as quickly as my tender shoulder would allow to shuffle in and out underneath the abandoned vehicles. Hearing the distant growls, I scrambled out from under another dry-tanked Toyota and hurried to pick off the oncoming crowd beginning to find their way on the highway road. Wincing under each shot, I hurried to the next few cars, anxious to find one that hadn't either been run dry or siphoned by now between picking off a few more of the crowd, tempted into pelting the front lines with a minute long of rounds. It was a few cars later inbetween controlling the numbers of dead still approaching from the distance did I shake around the fuel tank of a Dodge Intrepid to hear a soft swish of gas. Stumbling quickly back to my feet, I fired off a few more rounds before ripping open the car door. Luckily, the door was already unlocked, but after skimming around the visor and checking the center console, there was no trace of any key left behind. Flicking my knife out so nervously it almost fumbled in my fingers, I pushed back the driver's seat as far as it would go so I could shimmy under the steering wheel and I wasted no expense ripping open the plastic panels from underneath the steering wheel to reveal the ignition cylinder inside to get a look at the interior wiring. I inarticulately tried to grasp at what I'd could remember being taught (another skill I ruefully admit I'd picked up from Merle) and tugged down on the wiring until I pulled loose the red and brown coloured wires that I guessed were the power and starter cables. With my knife, I snipped them free from the cylinder and stripped off the insulation at the ends, baring the metal wiring inside for each before twisting the two red wires together. Smirking in relief I must be doing it right, I heard the static of the radio hum through the car and peeked up too see the dashboard's lights and gages come to life signaling the power at least was on.

Crawling back out from the car, careful not to touch any dangerously exposed wires, I felt my fleeting reprieve plummet at how ginormous of a distance the Biters had crossed up the highway while I'd been caught up with getting the car to start. Able to at least aim more accurately at their range, I fired off a few more rounds that were able to connect with a small number of skulls before I suddenly pulled on the trigger to feel my magazine was empty. A bone rattling turmoil gripped my innerards, dejectedly chucking the gun on the passenger seat to hurry back under the dash, I had a spare clip in my bag but I hadn't the time to dig it out. Grasping the brown wires hastily, I touched them delicately to the other matching pair and held my breath as I heard the struggle of the starter attempting to turn over. Gnawing my lower lip fiercely, I pulled them back to give the vehicle a break to prevent straining the engine too severely before attempting again. The car rumbled and squawked until finally the engine purred on, choking me with relief as I tried to hurry and sit up so I could close the door. Midway of hauling myself up, I felt a startling grasp take ahold of my foot, dragging me abruptly from the car to hit pavement underneath. Unable to help a startled yelp, I saw a Biter had came up fast enough and tried to wrench my foot from it's hold, desperately avoiding it's teeth that tried to follow my flailing limb. Seeing a shadow of another Biter approaching not to far behind, I reared up the pocket-knife I still had in my hand to feebly impale it through it's forehead, not quite centered considering it was aimed with my left hand since my right arm had barely been able to twist wires together. Wheezing a last rattling breath of air, the Biter's body collapsed heavily over me and groaned when I tried pushing it's weight off my raw shoulder. Scrambling from under the decaying body, I hastily yanked the blade back out as the one approaching close behind had all but flung himself ontop of the corpse to claw madly for my already bleeding flesh. Fisting the small blade, I stabbed it vehemently through the former woman's eye, causing her to slump down on the previous body as well. Kicking them off contemptuously, I scurried into the drivers seat and closed the door behind me. Cringing at my close timing when the thump of infected knocked and scratched on the car door I just shut. I could see two had tried rushing after me to find the blood I'd left smeared across the door handle, rapturously lapping at what they could get while others hurried to clamber over them after me.

Taking the gear out of park, I hurried to peel out but the huddling mob of Biters that had been chasing me through the forest were now crowded around all sides and even trying to climb over the hood at the windshield towards me.

"Goddamnit!" I hollered in a desperate frustration at the cars lack of acceleration through the huddle of bodies it was attempting to nudge through. "Motherfuckers- _move!_"

Smashing my foot down on the gas, I could hear the screech of tires attempting to catch up with how fast they were instructed to turn before the vehicle finally lunged forward, running right over a couple other's that had been in my way. The car jerked about, considering this wasn't some huge car to be plowing over bodies to begin with, but veered forward enough to shake the mob of dead trying to accumulate after me on the highway. All but the one Biter clinging on to the hood of the car was remaining, snarling after me behind the windshield. When I was far enough away from the crowd, I braked harshly and vindictively watched the still-animated corpse fly off the hood before I hurried to drive past it. There wasn't too much of a traffic snarl from this part of the highway I had found, so I only had to offroad the vehicle twice and drive through a few compact crevices through the mass of abandoned cars before the road cleared up only a few miles away from Griffin according to the rusted, unused freeway signs.

As I drove, my motorskills such as trying to breath and blink were becoming difficult, having to shake the weary cloud hovering over my consciousness a couple times while behind the wheel. Now that adrenaline was beginning to taper off, I was feeling dizzier trying to focus on the road. Finally I was able to pull off the highway and into the town I had just left no more than a few hours ago, I remembered which road I had taken last time and pulled off onto the dirt trail leading out of town. Pulling around the back of this familiar daycare-converted house, I carefully pulled the wires apart underneath the steering wheel to silence the engine of the car and save what gas was remaining. Hobbling my way out, I glanced around briefly and was grateful the dead hadn't been able to follow me this far out. Making my way to the front, I wedged open the gate and proceeded towards the back door I had left unlocked from my last visit. Stumbling rather noisily inside, I warily regarded the deserted playroom and shuffled down the hallway towards the arts and crafts room I remembered seeing earlier had a mirror. Practically collapsing in front of the long mirror set up against the wall, I slid off the backpack strap from my good shoulder and let it fall to the floorboards with a dull thud from the supplies I collected from this place. Shrugging off my coat and backpack as carefully as I could manage, I examined my still weeping gash.

It could have been worse. While inspecting the abrasion in my shoulder through the reflection of the mirror, I could see my skin had a wide slit through the flesh and muscle- but my attacker's aim must have been off for it seemed he must have just skimmed the top of my shoulder rather than hacking it clean through like it seemed to feel had happened. Horrifyingly close to my neck, I had to be thankful to some overseeing power to have avoided slicing an artery. My shoulder could have easily been fractured, or at least chipped by the force he was putting behind his swings, but the way my shoulder was still able to maneuver indicated my bones were unbroken for the most part. Unzipping my bag and pulling out the small first aid supply I'd been able to take from this house earlier, I hurriedly popped off the cap of peroxide, releasing my wounds long enough to pour over the laceration that gushed the second I relieved pressure. Trying to muffle my yelp of pain, I pounded the knuckles belonging to my good arm into the floorboards and writhed as silently as I could control myself against the burn of disinfectant. Panting from the singe of the peroxide, I attempted stuffing as much gauze and wrapping layers of bandages I'd collected to attempt to stem the blood loss. A sickening stain continued to steadily soak through the bandages into a gaping puddle that I had to continuously keep adding more layers of gauze, burning through a substantial amount I'd only just acquired. But even as I tried to contain the bleeding, just the sight of the sopping bandages sent my head reeling and I had to pause and lean back, squeezing my eyes closed until the spinning subsided.

When I peeked my eyelids back open to see if the room had stopped turning, I nervously squinted down at my lap; there was no indication of any other bleeding, an assuring sign this trauma hadn't instigated a miscarriage. I knew that if I couldn't clot this bleeding soon I would inevitably go into shock- for sure causing irreparable damage and would most certainly take my life it. Merle flashed across my thoughts yet again; it was far too many times that I cared to admit, but I couldn't help but remember the way we'd first come across the dismembered redneck. Cauterizing his own wound had astounded me, not just because it was a gruesome wound but at how horrendously desperate he'd been to willingly subject himself to such a severity of pain to survive. Most men would have gone into shock that would have killed them, but searing his amputated hand had ultimately saved his life. Looking at my own predicament, I was ironically in a similar situation, at the mercy of bleeding out and _alone_. _At least I'd avoided dismemberment_. A shaking, bloody hand reached down to clutch the bulge that I vigilantly kept concealed now seemed much more prominent without my jacket's usual protection. Dragging my eyes from my shoulder, I observed my figure through the mirror and realized this was the first time I actually saw my growing stomach. It was a hell of a lot different to process feeling the lump with my hands or looking down at it's discreet growth through my shirts than staring back at the clear reflection of my transformed body from a third-person's perspective. A weak sob escaped me rather unexpectedly, and it stemmed from a much deeper ache within my chest rather than my arm.

"Not like this," I tearfully breathed, sniffing back a mournful moan. "We can't end like _this_."

And it was then that I decided what I had to do.

Uncaring that I was getting blood over the other items in my bag, I rummaged towards the bottom to reach the emergency supplies I usually tried to keep with me while I was out. Incase I was ever in a situation such as this. Pulling out the spare magazine and pushing past water bottles, a few packed rations, and bolt cutters, I reach the desired pair of plyers and a lighter that barely had any fluid left. Wiping my slippery red hands off on my pants, I pried out a bullet from the clip before carefully holding the selected cartridge between my thumb, index and middle fingers. Reaching for the plyers, I concentrated cautiously on keeping my hands steadier so I could unscrew the shell after dropping it at few times, finally loosening the shell from it's seal as I unscrewed the top all the way and discarded it to reveal the ash-like gunpowder remaining inside. Dropping everything else but the dust-powder between my fingertips, I nervously glanced back at myself through the mirror, unbearably anxious at the turn of events this could lead me in; I was about to chance down such a risky road there and there would be no going back from. _And if I didn't come back...would I be in any position to care?_ Discarding that last discouraging thought, I grabbed my knife to splice the sleeve of my shirt up to the collar. Taking a deep shaky breath to prepare myself, for I would have to pull this off as quickly as possible to avoid too much more heavy bleeding. I peeled back the material with the layering bandages, unable to help but cry feebly at a few fibers that dried against the wound already. Grabbing the bandana stuffed in my pocket, I stuffed it between my teeth before scooting back up against the mirror so I could still see, I pressed my shoulder up against the reflective glass and hissed into the cloth as I tried to push the torn skin and muscle as close as possible together. Delicately shaking on the powder, I tried to apply most to it to the edges of the abrasion before shaking the rest down the middle of the laceration that was still weeping blood and smearing up on my reflection. Letting the empty shell fall to the floor, I grabbed the lighter with my arm still pressed against the mirror and looked between my open wound glaring blearily up at me and my rounded belly stretching underneath my blouse. Reminding myself what I was doing this all for gave me the last whim of strength to flick on the lighter and touch the small flame to the wound, instantly catching aflame.

I saw the flash of fire from the corner of my eyes through the mirror, but my vision whitened into a scalding oblivion, blinding me from anything else. My body convulsed and I felt myself fall back on the floor to writhe under the agony exploding through every nerve from my fingertips down into my curling toes. Senseless to how quiet I should have been, I was scarcely aware of my feet pounding against the floorboards in my blind catatonic state to bear this intolerable burning.

Hardly able to articulate a coherent thought as this point, I faintly felt the back of my fall and tilt to the side as I panted and sobbed unrestrained into the bandana still in my mouth. The cool of the wood floor soothed my cheek and was the last sensation I remembered alleviating my consciousness.

_ "I can't _believe_ you two!"_

_ Startling the room at my sister's fists slamming across the tabletop, Nat shoved her chair back and bolted up from her seat. Her pale viridian glare was startling to see deflected towards our dad; she'd mastered it quite well towards our mother the past year after she'd moved back in and the two were constantly butting heads. Things had been rocky the first couple months and it seemed things had just finally begun to level out in an actual semblance of normalcy in our house. That was until our parents decided to sit us across the dinning room table and inform us a new baby brother or sister was impending an addition to our family. _

_ It was actually my dad explaining while Rhian sat silently observing us with a reserved expression. _

_ I looked wearily over at my hot-headed sister and wished she could be a pinch more tactful; I felt just as disappointed by this news but at least had consideration enough for our dad to bite my tongue. _

_ "I'm already _fourteen-years-old_ and Olive's almost _thirteen_-"_

_ "Natalie," my dad interrupted my sister's rant and I didn't miss his sudden sharpness. "You remember who you're talking to."_

_ It was a reminder and a warning. As quickly as Nat could fly into a temper, she deflated just as immediately at recognizing our dad's tone, but failed to quiet her trembling fists she thrust down at her sides._

_ "People have babies all the time at our age, and yes, you'll have quite'a age gap between you guys but that's hardly something to be upset about," he tried reasoning, much more gently this time but Nat refused to be consoled as she shook her head._

_ "No. What's upsetting is _she's_-" Thrusting an accusing finger at our mom across the table. "-gunna pop out another kid and leave it on you and gramma-"_

_ "Natalie-"_

_ "_Again_, dad!"_

_ "Natalie stop-"_

_ My dad and sister's argument abruptly silenced when my mother reached over to settle her spiderly-thin hand over my dad's that had been clenching the table's edge, it was with such a softness I rarely saw come from Rhian and seemed to collectively surprise us all at the gesture._

_ "It's alright Max," my mother coaxed. I'd hardly ever saw the storm of Rhian's gaze so quieted like it was now when she traced the curve on our dad's hand. "She's gotta' grudge. Let her say what she's gotta' say."_

_ This paused the room as everyone seemed to await what I suspected would be a uncensored rant from my sister. But our mother's disinclination to be prodded into an argument seemed to bewilder Nat into silence as she stared over at our parents' conjoined hands. After our whole lives of trial and error between these two, it was always disheartening to see rare displays of affection between my parents whenever they were brought back together. It never failed to entail breaking my father's heart another time _every time_ Rhian left and distancing himself when he was really just trying to hide the hurt from us. _

_ We all stared expectantly back at Nat who seemed to stumble under the sudden freedom of speaking until she unexpectedly whipped her gaze over at me- like _I _was supposed to be backing her up on this. Instead, I felt my cheeks flush as I shrunk in my seat and avoided my older sister's hurt glare. As much as I agreed with Nat, I couldn't bring myself to say such cruel things to my dad when he was looking at me so apologetically from across the table. Steering my gaze down to burn a hole in my lap since there wasn't anything I wanted to add, my cold silence was enough of a rejection to send Nat stomping out from the room, hearing her march out to the front porch and slamming the screen behind her, shutting the front door even louder. _

_ None of us really knew what else to say to each other, and not wanting to be left alone in a discussion with my parents, I slowly got up as well._

_ "Can I be excused?" I murmured, keeping my eyes downcast, still not wanting to see the look on my dad's face._

_ With a heavy sigh from across the table, he seemed to except this was the end of our discussion for now. "Yeah babygirl, go 'head."_

_ Before turning to slide my chair back in, I caught Rhian's gaze flash over at my dad as he excused me, but I didn't want to linger to understand it's meaning before I hurried up the stairs to my bedroom. Knowing what Nat intended to do outside, I turned over the engraved conch shell on my bookshelf that I'd bought about a couple months ago from Venice (I'd explained to my dad a friend had brought it back as a gift while on holiday), the carving of a turtle meant to decorate the plum and egg-white shell. Nat was never well known for her discreetness, so my dad sneakishly emptied out any hiding spot she ever tried to use in her room, so I kept to storing things much more inconspicuously in mine. Shaking loose the mini-bic I had stored inside it's interior, I pocketed the lighter and headed back downstairs, practically jogging past my parent's still in the dinning room to avoid their inquisitive stare. Opening the front doors, I closed them a lot softer than Nat before leading myself down the porch steps to round the side of the house where we stored our trash cans. Inbetween the green-colored wall of our house and the bushes dividing our lawn from the neighbor's, Nat had a cigarette clenched between her lips that she was frustratedly trying to light with her white bic I knew was pretty much out while trying to cup her other hand around it to try shielding a spark. Usually she'd wait until night to creep out here and pluck from her stash she kept hidden under the porch steps, but I doubted either my dad or Rhian would come out here to prod the bull any further to see what she was up to out here._

_ Stepping forward to make my presence known, Nat only glanced up briefly before returning to shaking her lighter and tried again to flick on a flame, her eyebrows knitting together in annoyance at my company. I brushed my hand over the wheel of the one in my palm so she hear the flicker of what I'd brought with me, doing the trick to get her attention when she looked back up and raised an eyebrow at me- if not a sign she was our mother's daughter, I didn't know what was. Walking closer, I flicked on my almost new light to hold up for my venting sister who had reclined to lower her hands and let me spark her cigarette. I knew from school and outside influences that it was wrong for Nat to be smoking as often as she did and was never too fond of how fast my sister had picked up her smoking habit (not that I didn't join her from time to time), but a lit cigarette was so common in our house that I never protested too loud about us being underage._

_ We remained quiet for a while, Nat and I finding our familiar spot leant up against the house while she inhaled her Pall Mall, offering me a few drags which I decided couldn't hurt any at a time like this. I knew Nat must still be upset I hadn't stuck up for her, yet n unspoken but mutual understanding settled our nerves around each other; it was still us against the world- just now we could prepare for an addition._

_ "I'm never having kids."_

_ I looked over at her exhaling a breath of smoke before taking another drag right after._

_ "Don't say that Natty, you'd have the prettiest babies," I exclaimed, pinching the skin of her elbow reassuringly to try and lighten her mood._

_ "What for? So they can grow up messed up too," Nat grumbled under her breath. _

_ Not knowing what to say to a comment like that, I stared down at my scuffed up high-tops. Nat had such a sullen, almost bitter attitude we had thought had just been a phase but now seemed persistent these last couple years and I kept finding her pessimistic musings harder to relate to._

_ "Oh Ollie," my sister sighed, tapping her sandal over my foot. "I wasn't talking about you- you're perfect."_

_ Smiling up at my sister's rare change of mood, she was smiling affectionately over at me before offering me another drag from her cigarette that I declined. I never really had a cigarette unless Nat lit up, and only then I never finished my own. Shrugging, she tapped her finger to ash the end before bringing it back up to inhale another drag of nicotine, looking thoughtful as she eyed the smoke she breathed out through her nose this time in a sigh. I noted my sister was only a freshman in high school this year and already smoking like she'd been for years._

_ "Guess you're not gunna be the baby anymore," she finally scoffed, attempting to smirk and make like she hadn't just landed herself in hot water with my dad once we went back inside.._

_ "You're only a year older than me," I defended an ongoing argument we'd had as long as I could remember._

_ "Two until July lil' sis," Nat teased, shaking her fingers at me that had her cigarette pinched between. Rolling my eyes at my sister's favorite technicality, I giggled with her for a moment befoce we lapsed back into contemplative silence._

_ "Can you just imagine? By the time this baby grows up, mom and dad'll be almost fifty," she muttered after a while. "_Andwe'll _be in our thirties by then! It's just- _weird_."_

_ "Eeesh," I winced, not having thought about our parent's pregnancy this far through. I was anxious just to join my sister in high school the following year- let alone fathom my life almost twenty years from now."That sounds so _old_ and forever from now."_

_ "Yeah. It does." _

_ "Y'know she's stayed all this time, and daddy's been so much happier... maybe it'll be different with the baby?" I tried to softly encourage when I glanced over at Nat smothering the butt of her cigarette underneath her sandals. Nothing would have looked out of place to me if I hadn't caught the quiver in her lips while she tried to concentrate on ashing the embers at the end of the filter, obviously unconvinced._

_ "Like with us?" she seemed to grind out between her clenched jaw. Heaving a long sigh, she quietly opened the lid of our trashbin to toss in the extinguished cigarette remains before closing it inconspicuously, taking her time before eyeing me over warily. "Ollie...I know you don't like to remember a lot of stuff, and dad and gramma always try to cover for her...but she's cut and run from us- _a lot_. And now gramma's not around anymore to pick up the pieces this time."_

_ My mood sunk heavily in the pit of my stomach at the mention of our grandmother who had died about two years ago but still felt so very fresh to me. Meredith Somerset was too strict for my sister to appreciate her love the way I did; she reminded me a lot of our dad, but I remember feeling a warmth in her arms that I never felt from anyone else. However, the topic of our grandma had become a taboo conversation ever since our mother moved back in, making it all the more upsetting sometimes._

_ "I'm never having kids," Nat repeated in all seriousness. "I'd _never _leave someone I love the way she leaves us."_

_ Neither of us knew then, but in four years this would be a fictitious promise. And unlike our mother, she rarely ever came back._

The shattering of glass was what startled me out of an unconsciousness I hadn't even realized I'd fallen in, but before I could contemplate any meaning of the memory I'd just vividly had, a flood of pain reminded me where I was. Choking to pull back some air, I scrambled to sit up at the sound of more glass splintering and breaking, ironically smacking into the mirror that I'd been using earlier and hearing it's own crack as I pressed heavily against the wall. When I tried to reach my arm up to grab something that could help pull me up, another wave of light-headedness almost washed completely over me, tempting to drag me back under it's current but hurried to lower myself back down to the ground and wait out the dizziness. When I felt level-headed enough, I edged my hand over to the rifle I had dropped next to me, hurrying to reach and reload the clip.

While fumbling to reattach the clip, my knees shivered and bent up towards my chest so I could position the rifle steady without having to support it with my throbbing arm that seemed to be the prominent factor keeping me lucid other than fear. When I finally cocked the magazine into the rifle, I froze at the sounds of footsteps coming from the front room, my knees uncontrollably quaking at the prospect of the dead having gotten inside. A tear drop away from sobbing at the combination of everything that was happening to me, I felt like a terrorized animal with no where to go, possibly having caught myself in a snare inside this house. I only had around thirty rounds left, having left the majority of what ammo I tried to conserve back up in the tree all the way near the stream, and if I had to pop off rounds to protect myself here in this little corner of the house I would only be able to remain for so long.

It was then I heard more footfalls from down the hall and I wished I had closed the door behind me when I'd staggered in. The way these steps were muted and careful, I was instantly alert these couldn't be the clumsy dead. I should've known this place couldn't be left so untouched for this long, even it was far from the highway. I aligned up the barrel of the rifle as efficiently as my shaking knees would allow and positioned it facing the door, weaving my fingers through the trigger. _Not like this_, I repeated to myself and thread together any semblance of fight I still had while there was a breath in me.

There was shuffling of drawers and the clacking of cabinets being searched through no doubt, bracing for when it would be my room's turn. Whispers echoed through the hall as I heard the steps come closer and I could only make out fragments. "...place look like it's already been picked through... no formula up here... was hopin' with the traffic woulda' been less looted... that shopping center north on 85 might have a baby section..."

"Yeah. C'mon 'fore we lose the light, check the back an' we'll head out."

Cursing, I readied my aim and prepared myself for these intruders to come up on me, already hearing knobs being turned and doors creaking open as these people continued to scour the rooms just down the hall. Shuddering at the footsteps coming from the other side of the wall I was pressed against, I sharply snapped my attention back to the door and felt myself involantarily shrink back in frightful anticipation at another pair of steps approaching up the hall. _You're strong. You've got to be strong. _

A small handgun was what first rounded the doorway before the profile of a woman followed after it, her alert expression distorted by shock as she just as quickly saw my own pointed barrel and flashed her gun in an instant right back at me.

"_Drop it!_" we both almost simultaneously snarled towards one another. Rearing her gun steadier down at me, she had the higher ground on me but I intended to match her own silent threat with my own when a flash of pain up my arm reminded me of my position and willed myself to bear it without any emotion. I felt myself about to bark another threat for the intruder to lower her weapon when the other pair of footsteps I had almost forgotten about came running down the hall as well.

Dread cemented the bottom of my stomach when the other intruder whipped around the doorway to point a crossbow recognizably in my face, stuttering any protests as my aim was startled back at a pair of narrowed eyes glaring down the lens of his weapon's scope.

"Sum'_bitch_. Our day just keeps gettin' better now don' it."

_That's for sure. Today was just my lucky fucken' day._

_ Thank you sooo much to those who have been patient with this story, I've been going through midterms and am going through re-cert's for my work so this have been busy. But I hope this makes up for the long wait! Don't hate me, yes it's another cliffhanger, but I feel like I wanted a Walking Dead-like ending and found it fitting to end it here. I rather dedicate the next chapter to Olive/Daryl/Maggie interaction that rush it towards the end. So hope you keep reading :D_

_ And special thanks to my Beta _sea of destruction_, she's been sooo amazingly supportive of this story and a big help. __**And pleeease, pretty please- I need feedback. **__It means so much to know what you guys think on the direction of this story and a motivator like no other. So hope to hear from ya'll!_

_ The inspiration for the chapter and the opening lyrics are from the song _The Line Begins To Blur _by _Nine Inch Nails. _You know I always advise a listen3_


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

_"So give me hope in the darkness_

_And I will see the light_

_Cause, oh, it gave me such a fright_

_But I will hold as long as you like_

_Just promise me we'll be alright."_

The next few weeks in Michael's apartment had inspired a semblance of purpose in all of us. With the new resources we'd been able to take from the abandoned apartments, we threw out nothing and put to use everything we could while we waited for Atlanta to be liberated, rationing all supplies as efficiently as we could manage. We even almost took to relaxing somewhat into a routine; Philip and Nick seemed to take Neema's idea of rigging a sign to heart the most, so a majority of our time was spent cutting up blankets to sew on a distress signal to the largest white sheet we stripped from one of the apartment bedrooms. I found myself falling into step with Neema, who surprisingly took over the majority of the sign's construction, alleviating the men when they realized they weren't quite up to par with a sewing machine. I helped with what I could in stitching together our raggedy sign while Nick helped trace and cut out the letters for us.

We even took to Milton's idea as well, collecting as many deep bowls and buckets we could to set up on the roof to collect what condensation the night left and would collect what we could early the next day before the sun rose and the Georgia heat dried them. It was already nearing mid-summer, so we weren't able to collect much, only barely able to fill a liter after the first week. I could all secretly feel our anxiety collectively begin heightening over what our situation would be if help didn't arrive by the time our water supply ran up. Now that we had access to the roof, it was decided that at least a pair should take turns outside to watch for any passing by helicopters or approaching military, usually consisting of Todd, Philip, Brian, Nick, and Michael who took turns, one out in the baking hot sun while another watched over the barricade in the empty hallway. I preferably relieved whoever took watch with Todd during the night when I could sit under the chilled air and considering I found it hard to sleep much these days without dreaming of a suffocating panic in a reminding flurry of blood, teeth, and torn flesh.

Philip and Michael could always be found with the radio on, almost obsessively trying to pick up the emergency broadcasts that originally lured most of us to Atlanta for hours. Even Todd had grown a little concerned about how often the pair spent listening to nothing but static for hours on end, so much that I'd even spotted Michael having to replace the batteries a few times. Back before all stations disappeared and internet signals could no longer be found, Milton had been keeping track of every bit of information he could from his BlackBerry. Yes of course, it was nothing most of us hadn't already heard or learned first-hand by now. I was assured no one had answers, so it didn't seemed to affect the rest of us as it did Milton when everything was silenced.

Michael brought out maps they'd found from one of the apartments and the rest had almost excitedly poured over ideas on locations that had meant to be refugee camps that could had survived. However, it seemed my information of streets I remembered being overrun on my last trip back from the CDC seemed to wipe out a lot of their theories. Even I tried to pitch in where I could, offering to help Neema or Michael most nights, but like before any of this had occurred, I was a poor cook and was at fault for crisping our dinner more than a few occasions before Michael gave me gentle assurance he and Neema had the food under control. A subtle hint if I ever heard one and was almost relieved to apply my help elsewhere.

As creative as a lot of our ideas were to keep surviving until some kind of help arrived, we still strictly stayed to the top floor of Michael's apartment complex. Every day I saw Milton mark down the days on Michael's calendar until it felt we had trapped ourselves seemed the more proper term than waiting it out in hiding anymore. It began to resonate with me this was not just an outbreak; the way they'd first down-played the disease made it seem like another rash of the swine-flu or rabies. Whatever this was, was a bloody fucking genocide- and the infected were the persecutors of those living as they combed the streets of Atlanta day and night. As the weeks rolled by, we could hear the screams, sometimes at night, sometimes in the day; there was evidence there were others still alive amongst the city- even if we only found out from their last shrieks. I think we all knew this was bigger than any of our existences and extended well outside Georgia. I had to admit, my emotions had been essentially muffled the first few days, so everything seemed to crash down on me the hardest.

When the sun would begin to settle at the end of every day, we tended to gather on the roof to escape the confinements of Michael's apartment and under the stars that twinkled so cheerfully, almost taunting us with its impassiveness of the still beautiful amethyst leak of Georgia's creeping night sky. So unlike the rotting, dead earth below. It seemed to be the only remaining element of the world around us that hadn't changed while we ate from the groceries we had taken from the missing.

At first, the nine of us still treated the cleared out apartment floor with apprehension, none of us too keen on straying from the protection in numbers. Michael attempted to give up his bedroom, but after seeing just how much of his wife's belongings still remained, no one seemed to have the heart to take it from him. The other room had unofficially become the Blake family's place of residence at night, giving up the extra comfort of a bed to Philip's little girl. It wasn't lost on us how often she awoke in the middle of the night, the gasps of her sobs and cries were unmistakable through these thin walls even as Philip or Brian urged to quiet her back to sleep. She must dream as awfully as I did. Neema and I had been offered to take the couch, but I couldn't bring myself to be alone in my sleep so I took up a spot beside Todd on the living room floor on a set of blankets we snagged if either of us wasn't on watch. Nick took to joining us on the floor as well, sprawling out on his own blankets and pillow having declined cluttering up the spare bedroom with his friends since Brian was already taking up most of the floor's space while Milton usually slept slumped in one of Michael's armchairs that reclined.

At night I became almost painfully clingy, clutching a hold of whatever piece of Todd I could being the only way I could fall asleep properly. I suffered from a maddening devastation when I remembered when I hadn't know if I'd ever see him again and I just couldn't shake how fragile of luck I felt I somehow was blessed with. I was reminded by almost everyone but the Blake's how I still had someone. Although not married, I could be suffering the same empty sadness the now widowed Neema endured so silently, tending to her wounds with her back turned to the rest of us who were just about as clueless about how to comfort anyone else. Nick seemed to suffer the familiar pain of not knowing what had become of his family. Like me, he had confessed he hadn't heard a single word or call since the beginning of it all. Now with everyone's phone either dead by now, or just as useless without signal, it took me days to stomach what that forever meant about ever finding my family. But if Todd noticed my uncharacteristic clinginess, he never commented on it and seemed to know I rather not talk aloud about it, so he only held me in a comforting silence that could soothe me through the nights.

However, with nine people cluttered together in an apartment clearly meant to be accommodating to only one or two residents, it wasn't always coombuya and we had our moments of frustration of course. Todd and Nick seemed to be on the most opposite perspectives on matters of how we should handle our living situation and had become an argument constantly festered under the surface of almost every discussion that brewed an underlining division between us all. Todd constantly dropped suggestions that we should pursue further scouting explorations to reach out for help and more supplies while Nick insisted the best idea was to wait ourselves out in safety. Knowing Todd, who was usually patient and agreeable during the best of disputes, it surprised me to watch how frustrated Todd would become with our floor-mate. Sometimes they'd get into it so aggressively they would have to be broken up. It had become a point to make sure the both weren't paired together on watch duty since they refused to speak with one another on more than several occasions. But the way Nick seemed to talk down during a disagreement even sent me on edge. I of course never outwardly expressed any disagreement against Todd, but I could see his logic and was tugged back and forth between both sides of the coin. I knew Todd would never carelessly throw our safety on the back-burn, but we were all strangers to each other after all and I could understand Nick's unease to trust his ideas. For the time being, we held off on any rash decisions and continued to hold up where we'd been successful keeping us all undetected by the hordes of infected wandering just outside the building for this long.

Neema and Milton also seemed the most uncomfortable to be amongst the clutter of complete strangers. The Hindu woman's grief veiled over her like the scarf she had yet to disregard.

And around the presence of so many strange men under her unbearably restricting clothing, she seemed to struggle under the pressure of keeping her modesty. She refused any attempts to offering her more comfortable clothing and was withdrawn from any kind of conversation unless it was necessary. It was difficult understanding how she could bare wearing her head-scarf constantly over her face during this time of the year as the heat was steadily picking up. Since there was no working air conditioner or fan in Michael's apartment, the rooms heated up rapidly and were disgustingly humid for most of the day.. Knowing she had lost her whole family on the way to Atlanta, I began growing increasingly worried about her, and the gun she had asked from Todd kept pestering me, truly concerning me about her motives. When I tried discussing this with Todd, he admitted she probably was numb, but denied he thought she was suicidal- but I caught the way he eyed the gun he'd given her differently. Milton on the other hand, was someone I could empathize with a little better. He took to questioning me the most about my own experience during the outbreak; I could easily flow into medical discussions on what we both guessed this 'infection' could be, reminding me how I used to be able to talk with Zhao during work, to look up and find the others staring like we were speaking another language. Yet unlike Zhao, who could ease back into a casual conversation, I found Milton seemed to have little, if any, social skills when it came to conversing about anything else that didn't have to do with microbes and epidemiology. He seemed to be the most interested to hear of my experience treating the infected and questioned me rather thoroughly on the details of their contusions down to the rapid time of developed fevers, wanting me to indulge specifics that I tried to answer to the best of my ability, but there was only so much I could explain in words before the grew too painful and confusing that I felt I wasn't much help.

As the weeks rolled by since we opened Michael's apartment front door, then another, and another before we realized it had now become a month since Atlanta's downfall and not one omen of rescue was yet to be seen. The white sheet we'd finished sewing 'Alive Here' was vigilantly tacked down on the rooftop day and night but had yet to be of any use under empty skies. As we were beginning to realize how truly alone we really must be, we began growing exceptionally more withdrawn and less communicative with each other. Our faith that had been hyped after ransacking Michael's floor seemed to plummet all the more painfully this time. The taste of my words to Michael after his neighbors deaths left a bitter taste in my mouth that dissolved to ash off my tongue, feeling all the more foolish I could have pretended to be so assuring. During breakfasts or dinners, instead of coming together, getting to know one another and exchange banter like we had the first month, people were progressively beginning retreat and seek further privacy to themselves in the building. The Blake family eventually even moved out and took residence in the apartment across the ways. I suspected it was partially Philip's attempt to keep Penny's persistent night terrors more private, which I could understand, so I urged Todd not to give them too much grief. But Brian was now spending most of his time, if not on watch, in the Blake's 'new' apartment and hardly joined in any conversations during meals anymore, only exchanging words occasionally on watch. And eventually, Neema began to spend her nights in the apartment next door as well. One night when I went looking for her to try cojoling her back to sleep with the rest of us, I opened the apartment's bedroom door to glimpse her crying alone. I couldn't find the heart to interrupt and neither knew the words to say myself, so I left her alone and returned to bed. After that, I never bothered her about where she chose to sleep because Michael and Nick seemed to vocalize their unease about the separation enough. I think everyone else, including Todd and myself, would never admit it aloud, but I secretly assumed were still too uneasy and frightened to split up.

It wasn't until one exceptionally subdued night at dinner, a freshly shaven Philip showed up; the men had recently taken advantage of the shavers we had salvaged considering most of them had become almost wolfish, even Todd had finally shaved his light blond goatee that had been well on its way to becoming a beard. But it wasn't the clean face that attracted my attention, but the bottles stuffed under his arms as he tried to balance them without clinking the glass together too noisily. I recognized the few various bottles of alcohol we'd came across from the apartments and raised an eyebrow; we had said we'd wait until rescued to break out the liquor, something to look forward to. Yet this didn't deter Todd or Nick from getting up to help relieve the man of his load unquestionably, almost as if they were relieved as they brought the bottles over by the embers of the fire we were putting out. I realized no one seemed to point out we were supposed to be saving them, not even Michael who wordlessly picked out the Yellowtail to pour in his cup and beckoned for a speechlessly shocked Milton to offer over his own cup to fill. I saw Todd grab for the bottle of already opened Sailor Jerry's while Philip browsed a little more thoughtfully to pick out a still sealed bottle of E&J. Even Brian snagged a Bacardi Silver and Nick took an almost full bottle of Jager almost as fast as Todd and Philip. The usually stubborn man shook his head but opening the cap to take a generous gulp nonetheless. Todd offered to try his rum, but my stomach felt too hollow for hard alcohol so I sorely resigned to take the other's lead and picked out a bottle of Riunite. Opening up the sealed wine, I noticed Neema hadn't made to grab for any of the liquor- but I caught her searching stare under the scarf draped away from her face today as she watched Todd chug like some desperate lush and even breathed a small laugh at his obnoxiousness. I couldn't help but pour until it was almost to the brim of my plastic blue cup before I pulled back the bottle, a cheap substitute for a wine glass I mused. Glancing over at Neema still picking at her food, I held out the wine bottle and gestured encouragingly for her cup, but not as demandingly as Michael. She stared over at me and the glass I had poured for myself, frowning thoughtfully for a long awkward few moments. I was about to concede, not wanting to pressure her, but before I retreated the bottle back she offered over her cup for me to pour her some as well. Unable to help the small smile that burst over me, I didn't top her off as much as mine, but I poured a generous amount nonetheless.

Unlike the last time we cheered one another, this exchange was quietly bittersweet. When I tapped cups with Milton, who had been sitting across from Todd and I with Michael, his eyes were imploring mine with uncertainty; like he knew if there was a person here who recognized and opposed the symbolism of drinking before rescue arrived it would be me. Yet I felt much too tired to protest at this pount and resigned to shrink back to knock back quite a generous gulp, sliding back the warm wine and pondering over the Lumbruso's dark sourness, whatever flavor that was supposed to be. Settled ever-so-slightly by the wine's warmth mulling over the knots in the pit of my stomach, I could only offer Milton a small shrug. Me protesting wasn't going to restore anyone's faith.

"To month numero tres," Nick muttered blandly, pulling another drink straight from his dark, forest green bottle. The men who had chosen hard liquor hadn't bothered with cups either as they joined him. Everyone collectively drank to the new week; even Neema and Milton tipped their cups and sipped their wine.

We all drank silently for a while, content to let the alcohol soothe everyone's thoughts that seemed anywhere but on the rooftop. I was plenty guilty of this, thinking back to my family miles and miles away, wondering if I was able to turn my phone back on if there would be a message letting me know someone had made it. I hadn't realized I'd swallowed more than half of my drink when Todd had reached a hand over to grab a hold of mine. It was past sun-down and the only light was from the hue of embers still cultivating a warm glow, enough to illuminate Todd's eyes shining brightly over at me. I couldn't help feel my lips slide into a soft, pathetic smile, but I squeezed his hand back. Since finding each other at St. Joseph's, I could never feel grateful enough. Someone of mine had made it, and I tried to be thankful enough with that to keep me from losing my mind. His scraped up arm and leg were healing accordingly, only remaining with dry scabs that he claimed were unbearably itchy as I tried to discourage his scratching when I could. His panda-like bruises around his eyes had eventually faded, only a few scabs across the side of his face still lingered but for the most part were practically healed, revealing now how most of his eyebrow hairs had been scraped off with his skin. But he was _alive_ and we were together, and that was a miracle in itself.

I often wondered if Steven had made it out of Atlanta and found his wife. I imagined plenty of the EMT's had never even made it back to the hospital, let alone to their families.

We sat drinking silently until it seemed we began to comfortable enjoy the night silent with each other; the alcohol must have been putrid to drink strength, but much like myself, no one else seemed say anything past sour faces. Philip took to urging us wine drinkers to take shots of his brandy, even succeeding in getting Milton to take one much to the amusement to the rest of us to see him sputter and cough, seemingly just about as accustomed to alcohol than Penny. Even Todd and Nick exchanged drinks, taking a swig with each other. It was a thing to see and I felt others watch in quiet appreciation but no one said so aloud; you wouldn't know these two had a strife between each other that night. I found myself soon relaxing from the tension that seemed to loom over us the past couple days and eventually took a few drinks from Todd's rum. It was in our inebriated comfort that Philip suggested we make a game of our indulgence.

"What is this, high school?" I teased, scoffing at the idea of a drinking game at a time like this, with dead corpses wandering around below us. Yet I felt too light to linger on our predicament for too long.

"Oh come on," Philip tried to bribe; laughter in his own voice I suspected was loosened by the brandy.

"Well not all of us were troublemakers drinking under the age," Todd nudged at me, his eyes twinkling down at me considering we both knew he was no Mr. Innocent.

"I guess if we played 'I Never', we'd know how to get you two drinkin," Philip mused, earning a few guilty chuckles amongst the group.

"'I Never'?" Milton inquired, pink splotches already flushing his cheeks. I giggled to myself that Milton must be a lightweight.

"You can't honestly mean you've never played 'I Never'," Brian exclaimed, interrupting his pull of Bacardi.

"Yeah Dr. Mamet, I thought you were supposed to be the frat boy out of all us," Nick jested, turning Milton's face from its soft rose hue to lobster red that could be seen even in the dark.

"That wasn't exactly what I went to school for," Milton mumbled.

"Then I guess if I was to say I Never played I never, it'd be safe to say a third of us would be out," Nick said, raising his own bottle to his lips with a smirk, waiting as gradually everyone but Milton, Neema, and Penny relented in joining him.

"That makes no sense," Neema commented, eying us a bit amusedly as she exchanged a look with Milton who seemed just as perplexed.

"It's silly really," I explained, reaching over to pour a little more wine in her cup. "You usually want to say what'll get the majority drinking. If someone says they never did something that you actually have done, you drink."

"Like, I never passed the sixth grade?" Penny asked from her spot curled against her dad who draped his arm over her shoulders and giggled along with the rest of us, everyone but Penny taking a drink. Philip smiled back but it wasn't as warm as it had just briefly been. I wondered if Penny would ever finish the sixth grade after all this.

"See, she gets it," Todd grinned. "C'mon, she can play too, she's got juice. We'll keep it clean."

And much to my disbelief, we actually began playing. It started off with safe, generic questions: I never broke a bone, I never got the chicken pox, I've never been pulled over, I've never lied about my age (funnily enough, Neema was the only who didn't drink), or I've never knowingly wrote a bad check. Before I knew it, the wine Neema and I had been sharing ran dry and I was now sharing from Todd's rum, ignoring I would regret mixing so much in the morning. As the nine of us loosened our hackles amongst each other after the suffocating tension this past few weeks, I subconsciously realized my cheekbones were being used the most since the outbreak. And it was nice seeing others relaxing as well; Brian was chuckling along, intermingling himself back into conversations he'd taken to leaving his brother to handle in favor of watching Penny, who's face that was constantly etched with fear and sadness had broken into the first real smile I saw come from her in weeks. Even Nick and Todd seemed to put aside their differences to exchange friendly banter with Philip's clever liquid encouragement. As the game progressed, people seemed to take to targeting individuals none to discreetly; such as Brian saying he never snores, effectively calling out Michael and Nick who we'd all gradually learned in the confines of a small apartment, or Todd targeting those never growing past six feet, getting the Blake brothers to drink together. Even Milton seemed to surprisingly throw a bit of humor out when picking me out by saying he'd never been named after a fruit. The men seemed to even playfully gang up against the only three girls of the groups, getting Neema, Penny, and I to drink after a few rounds of specific gender related I've nevers.

"I've never finished college," Philip said, smiling over at Milton who I noticed the guys just loved to pick on to get drinking. I was shy to be the only other one amongst the group to take a sip with Milton.

"Where from?" Nick inquired to the both of us.

"UC Davis," I shrugged, avoiding eyes but looking to Milton, truly interested.

"John Hopkins University," he offered up, taking note that his usual anxious stutter was considerably slurred.

"That's pretty prestigious," I commented, raising my eyebrows impressed. "What'd you major in?"

"I-I received my MD in Kinesiology," he explained, shying his gaze down bashfully. I felt admiration, but also an old familiar pang of envy I swallowed back with another swig of rum even though I already took my penalty.

"What did you degree in, Olive?" Michael asked.

"I double-majored, in Anthropology and Natural Science," I mumbled, relating to how Milton must feel.

"Interesting. Physical science and a non-science degree? But no Med School?" I almost visibly winced as Milton hit the head on the nail of a question I always hated answer. I avoided old classmates like the plague just to avoid the 'what happened to you' inquiries.

"No Med School." I replied flatly, taking another drink to ignore Todd's glances before I passed the bottle back. There was a little moment of silence that made my face catch fire before Penny chimed in to take her turn.

"I've never been married." She smiled over at her dad she had cleverly singled out who took his drink along with Michael and Neema. I'm sure Penny only meant to target in good fun and hadn't known any better, but I caught the mood of Neema and Michael shift. I knew from Todd's confession, Neema's husband had died terribly recent, so it wasn't a surprise to see pain reflecting from the corner of her eyes as she began to rapidly blink away the memories of her family behind a sip of more wine. Glancing over at our oldest member, I also knew his story, so it seemed the topic of marriage seemed somber for Michael as well. The way a lot of the apartment was untouched in some areas, more distinctively things his wife used to keep or organize things through the house, I could imagine how hard it was letting so many strangers disrupt its former upkeep.

Some part of me couldn't help but prickle uncomfortably next to Todd at our ineligibility, because I had a distinct feeling he felt it more. I remained adamant to avoid turning to look at Todd, and even though I hadn't looked to see his expression, I knew something about that question pricked him in the way that he sat rigid against me. Though I refused to acknowledge I noticed anything out of place between us and instead distracted myself by asking Michael how many years he was married to his late wife.

"1964, we eloped when I was drafted," Michael hummed with a twinkle of remembrance in his eyes. "She passed before our 45th year."

Nick whistled, his eyebrows raised. I myself felt taken aback, not really realizing how old Michael was until adding it up in my head.

"Damn. You're marriage is older than me, man." We laughed at Nick's comment that lightened us up again, but when I chanced a glance at the man beside me, I quickly looked away at his stoic expression that had been the only one to not loosen up. I wished Brian would hurry and change the topic with his next turn.

"Did it agree with you?" Everyone turned to Todd who had looked up from the bottom of his bottle to shrug and only had eyes for Michael's answer.

"Pardon?"

"Marriage," Todd clarified. I felt myself shrivel and knew where this was going. "Did it agree with you? You two happy all forty-five years? Or does shit fade after so long?"

"Todd, that's pretty rude," I exclaimed, unable to keep quiet anymore beside the festering man, who I'd noticed was no longer leaning against me.

"No, that's quite fine," Michael said, looking truly thoughtful for a moment with his wine he had to swish in his hand before he met Todd's gaze evenly.

"Were we _always_ happy? Heavens no. For god's sake, sometimes I used to think we were the only two people who knew how to truly get under one another's skin."

I could feel my brows shoot up in shock, as did the rest of us besides Philip, who seemed to get a big kick out of Michael's statement that I hadn't realized was supposed to be funny.

"But that never meant a day passed that I didn't love her," he finished, smiling to himself. "Happiness ebbs and flows, but love, that never fades."

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Todd turn his gaze over at me- with an expectant expression I'm sure. But I bit my lip and pretended I didn't notice, not meaning to ruin Michael's touching words, but I turned to Neema instead to ask for some of her wine since I didn't feel like drinking from Todd's rum anymore.

"What about you Neema? How long were you married?" I asked, trying to act nonchalant while pouring myself another cup Neema obliged.

"Sixteen years," she replied quietly, not quite meeting anyone's eyes. Being the master of avoidance, I recognized she shunned the attention as well, passing it off on the only other married person of the group. "What about you Philip?"

"Oh, we weren't quite as seasoned as you both," he replied, though looking much more comfortable under scrutiny. "Was 'bout eleven years."

Acknowledging each other's lives before the world went to shit, it was odd getting a glimpse into these people I'd been forced to live with under the current circumstances.

"But on Michael's note 'bout marriage, can't say I agree more," Philip added, looking down at his daughter and squeezed her shoulder as she listened intently. "You may not find yourself wakin' up to the person you thought you knew when y'all first met- but I got the best thing I ever did from her."

I couldn't help feel uneasy, yet it was still nice to hear about love at such a time as this- but I held my question about where Penny's mom was behind my teeth. Shifting the mood, Brian seemed to catch the awkward ambiance as he grinned softly over at us. "I've never carried around a bag full of guns like some arsonist."

Unable to contain an outburst of laughter, I muffled my own grin behind my hand as I dared to glance at Todd, seemingly shaken out from his brooding to shrug and take a drink. I wasn't the only one to find this highly amusing, earning a collective laugh like it was some inside joke between us all.

"I've been meaning to ask about that bag since day one," Philip admitted, a breath of laughter between words. "You must'a had some sound sleeps."

"Yeah dude," Nick asked, half breathless from laughing. "What's with the uni-bomber bag?"

"Well I guess being a gun enthusiast these days pays off," Todd chuckled along with the rest. "A lot of 'em were my pop's that I inherited- _she's_ made me get rid of a lot more I used to have."

"_Well_ excuse me for not being too _enthused_," I snorted. "He had hunting rifles and shotguns!"

"Yeah, conditions of her moving in were to get rid of my Browning and Winchesters- I only have a Remington Whitetail," he exclaimed.

"You had ammo for my Ruger," Philip pointed out. "What's you're supply on handguns?"

"Yours was the .22 right?" Todd asked, confirmed by the man's nod. "Neema has my Taurus. Pistol wise, Olive has the Barretta and I was using the Glock G21. I only got a box of .45's for a Kimber Pro Carry and a Stoeger."

It was silent for a moment, and suddenly, I realized people were glancing amongst each other. I joked often about how crazy of a gun collection Todd had, but I never really believed he owned them to go on a shooting spree, knowing full well he used the rifles for hunting. Before I could speak up defensively on my boyfriend's behalf, Philip breathed a laugh took another thoughtful drink of brandy.

"Bought the thing at a flea market years ago," he shrugged. "I had burglars more in mind if I ever had to use it."

_Bet you never thought you'd be shooting out people's brains._

"Anyways," Nick drawled, steering on the game. "I never...peed in the shower?"

"I thought this was supposed to be clean," Neema exclaimed, finding it highly amusing that almost everyone took a drink- and yeah, so did I. However, everyone couldn't help but bust up at Penny taking a rather bashful sip.

"You're turn Michael."

"I never..." our host seemed stuffed for a moment, until he combed his hand through the top of his head. "I never had a full head of hair."

Everyone exclaimed at Michael's effective question at getting everyone but himself to drink.

"Hey man, in a couple years you'll be excluded," Brian elbowed his older brother who scoffed and ran a hand through his own hair.

"Lay off," he shot back, shaking his head at the younger Blake.

And we carried on for quite some time, going around our circle several times exchanging I never topics. Eventually, Penny ran out of her juice and was too tired to stay up the rest of the night with us, falling asleep with her head in Philips lap as he continued on with us but was careful not to jostle her awake. With the little girl asleep, the game took a bit of a mischievous turn- Nick was to blame for trying to embarrass a few with his 'I never done _it_ before the twelfth grade'- causing Neema to narrow her eyes, seemingly unapproving and bashful along with Milton, who turned tomato red again as he coughed rather uncomfortably. The father of the sleeping girl only chuckled along with his friend, nudging his own brother who did not raise his cup to drink along with Neema, Milton, and Michael. Must be an inside joke amongst the three I guessed, but couldn't help but bashfully drink along with Todd and the others who were more brazen about it. When it was my turn, I couldn't help but pursue the topic as I seemed to lie back at ease into old humor.

"I never... " I exchanged a sly grin at half tried to contain it from over the rim of my cup. "Had a cramp while love making?" Todd snorted and I earned myself another rumble of laughter from the circle of adults. He rose an eyebrow over at me, shaking his head but grinned as he took a drink. But he wasn't alone as every other male present drank along.

"To be fair, that a week I'd been working double shifts," he tried to justify, only partially indignant. I looked over to roll my eyes up at him but restrained myself when he leaned back into me, feeling the comfort of his chest against my shoulder. I shivered when he reached over to lightly pinch my side, absently tickling me as he thought about what he'd say for his turn.

"Whatever. I've never been lazy taking turns." I felt my already warm face burn at Todd's insinuation and I giggled along with the others at my expense, but found myself drinking along with plenty others which sent us cackling until Neema remembered where we were and shushed us back down. In rotation, it was now Philip's turn, and despite the level of matureness (or lack of) that had changed now that his daughter fell asleep, he was smiling in mischievous thought with his hand resting over Penny's ears in her sleep.

"I've never been too subtle 'bout someone spendin' the night." I grinned as Philip cast a look to his brother who resigned to look down the bottom of his bottle and avoided the older Blake's grin, trying hard himself to keep from blushing it seemed.

"For the last time, she didn't-"

"Five o'clock in the mornin' ain't stayin' the night?" Philip laughed but nodded and raised his hands in mock surrender. "Awright though if you wanna' stick to the 'just talkin' story."

We carried on with the very personal, but good-natured teasing for a while longer until it seemed we were slipping from the point of being relaxingly tipsy to drunk that I put it down to the the bottles all of us seemed to single-handedly kill. But eventually we grew a few more years and tried to steer the questions back in a more illicit track. Milton was the first to succumb to puking back up so many cups of wine I'm sure he wasn't regularity used to. Much too belligerent to make it back down the hall himself, Michael and Neema retired with him, rushing him to the bathroom as he began to turn green. The game eventually dwindled, after their departure, yet Todd and I stayed behind a while longer drinking with Philip, Brian and Nick.

"Not that this doesn't do the job," I murmured. "But what I wouldn't give for a cold beer."

There was a hum of agreement among the men. Taking a moment to look them over, I couldn't help but smile at their vulnerability in their much looser, inebriated states after so many weeks of living on edge with each other. Even Nick's disgruntlement seemed softened- and when Todd began to speak up, I realized I hadn't been the only one to take notice.

"Listen guys." We all picked our gazes up to the man beside me, turning his now empty bottle in his hand thoughtfully before he breathed a sigh and looked up to meet the other men's stares. "I know you don't _know_ me. And I get that. I don't _know _you either."

I felt anxious and wondered if this would be the end of a peaceful night, but no one spoke so it was enough encouragement for Todd to continue. "But I know you got your own to look after."

I saw him glance down at the little girl asleep in her father's lap, earning an earnest, sobered nod from Philip who stared back intently to wait and hear what Todd had to say.

"So do I, bro." Almost flinching in surprise, Todd had reached down to rest a hand around one of my feet that had been crossed in front of me, feeling him gently squeeze my toes briefly through my shoe. "I wouldn't suggest putting my own at risk if we didn't need to. Or your own."

"Well I think we can all come to an understanding on that," Philip agreed, waiting for what Todd was really getting at while Brian watched on thoughtfully, but I could see Nick was observing much more apprehensively, knowing just as well as I where this was going.

"I think we need to start considering there might not _be _any help on their way. At least not for a long while," he started slowly. "And not before our supplies runs out here."

I felt myself grow heavier at Todd's words. We had all feared this was our last option and it felt surreal we were actually pushing these crossroads we had desperately tried to keep pushing back.

"Before the phone lines went down, my brother got a hold of me. He said in San Diego, the Marine base was _overrun_." This came as a shock to me and I couldn't help but tear up at remembering another loved one of ours was lost somewhere across the country. Todd and his younger brother had grown up partners in crime, being almost as close in age like Nat and I, so I knew this must be painful for him to reveal. I couldn't help but feel a prick of hurt that he hadn't even told me about his phone call, but pushed it aside for another time. "I didn't know what he meant by overrun then... But clearly, military had no idea how to handle this- look at what happened to the National Guard in a _day_. It just makes me question who's even still out there."

"He's right," I couldn't help but whisper. "No one at the hospital even knew what this was. Soldiers were _open firing_ at the CDC."

"So what're you suggesting?" Brian asked, his expression seeming open enough past the glassy blood-shot glaze.

"Those stiffs out there'll starve us out if we keep on like this. We should at least search out more resources to keep us going. We've been living a month off Michael's floor but we've only got a week more of rations tops-"

"So how do you suggest we go and find these resources?" Nick interrupted shrewdly, his softened mood from earlier already slowly beginning to sharpen.

"This is the eighth floor. We've got seven other floors to gather from-"

"If we compromise the barricade-"

"I'm not saying we compromise anything," Todd snapped back, his calm approach of reasoning starting to crack under frustration with Nick's pessimism.

"Nick, please." Philip sighed beside his friend, shooting him a tired, exasperated look at the man's interruptions. Seeing this was about to start another row, I felt myself about to talk down this argument before Philip beat me to it.

"Awright, let's just- keep it _easy_," Philip eased, gesticulating his hands between the six of us. "This was supposed to be a night to forget. Let's just enjoy ta'night. Tomorrow, we hash out a real discussion 'bout this."

Turning away from Nick's spoiled mood, I could see Philip's gaze find Todd's for a long moment before nodding. "'Cus I do agree with you. We can't keep living waitin'."

Even Todd seemed surprised at Philip's admission, and I couldn't help but feel some respect at the man's calm approach between the two clashing perspectives, especially since one of them happened to be the man's friend. Rather than endure through another argument that was sure to come from Nick's brooding, I sat up none too gracefully and claimed I wanted to call it a night at already seeing his mouth start to part to form some words of inclination. Brian agreed, blinking behind heavy eyelids but offered to take Penny to bed when Philip inclined to stay behind for watch. I couldn't help but feel surprised at hearing Philip ask Nick if he'd stay behind to keep watch with him and wondered if the man was offering to soothe his friend's misgivings, but Nick grumbled his agreement unexcitedly. Todd obliged me, sitting up immediately to help steer me through the rooftop exit and down the hall with an amused twinkle in his glossy eyes when I unbalanced a few times towards the apartment. We'd been shit-faced with each other plenty of times, so I didn't feel too embarrassed about letting him walk me and unable to contain our laughter at hearing someone hurling rather loudly a few doors down. Brian looked back as we all attempted to muffle our chuckles at poor Milton's expense.

After Brian bid us good night as he ducked into the apartment the Blake family vacated, rather than follow into Michael's just across the hall, not knowing for certain why that saddened me so much. But I didn't have long to think Brian's persistent seclusion when I felt Todd's grip around me abruptly jerk us around. Pulled quickly into an apartment a few doors down, I felt myself freeze up a little and gaze around hastily for anything bleeding and snarling, but Todd seemed to already anticipate my apprehension.

"I double-checked before dinner, every room's clear I promise." Trying to urge myself to follow Philip's advise about keeping things easy, I tried to smile back and tentatively let myself relax back into the lightness of the night. It was small, almost identical to Michael's but was unnaturally much more bare, obviously taking a big hit from the guys or its original residence. Unlike Michael's, the wall's were an eggshell white with various frames paintings and posters decorating the the apartment's interior rather than pictures and portraits. But before I could observe anymore, Todd physically pulled my gaze back to meet his with his hand against my chin and I couldn't help but feel pleasingly startled at the lustrous glint in his bright eyes. It suddenly dawned on me we hadn't had a decent moment of privacy with each other amongst the crowdedness of living in the same room with three other people for almost a month and even fewer moments of intimacy. Reaching out for me, I couldn't resist letting myself sink into Todd's hold and let his fingers stroke soothingly down bare arms and remembered how we used to make love before we turned so cold towards each other. His lips tasted of the black liquorice rum we'd been sharing together, shushing any more of my inquiries as he pressed me back softly into the apartment door, leaving me to distantly wonder if he could taste the bitter sweetness of my wine as well. We started off playful in our induced inebriation, breathing a few giggles when the button of his jeans just wouldn't budge or we yanked a little too greedily on one another's lip. Then everything seemed to progress much more heatedly when we retreated further into the apartment and felt myself backed onto a couch. Peeling off each other's clothes in an almost desperate rush, I almost forgot how much I missed his nips along my throat to the spot behind my ear where he knew made my toes curl. The previous few months before any of this, we'd been roughly intimate with one another, using a little more teeth and bruising fingers to almost mirror our internal struggle against each other. But this time it seemed different; even though I could feel the need beneath his hands I could feel him handling me much more careful than he ever had, as if he no longer believed I could withstand such passionate aggression. I felt myself trying to inspire a bit more fervor, but each advance seemed to be coaxed slower and soothed into a trance of soft kisses until I shut my eyes and let him take me where it seemed he wanted this to go.

"I'm sorry." His nose nuzzled its way in the crook of my neck where he softly whispered and I felt myself nod numbly. "About everything before. We're alive and nothing else matters."

I couldn't recall anything to say back as I felt myself become lost back in the darkness underneath Todd's touches, feeling the safest and untouched by the world outside since the outbreak. The dead didn't reach for me here. _Not now._ I sighed into Todd's shoulder at the remembrance of how exquisite we felt together. I softly brushed back the hair that tickled my cheeks as we started leisurely slow, catching eyes through the faintly moonlit room. I was consumed by a bright cerulean fire; every molecule was pulsing as I caught fire in the hottest of flames. _And oh did it burn so good._ The heat flickered up my abdomen and down my legs until I could barely withhold my gasps while Todd seemed unable to contain himself either. My fingers dragged helplessly down his shoulder blades as it felt it was all I could do as I broke under Todd after he pushed deep and desperate one last particular time. We were both breathless and I could even feel his forearms shake under his weight on top of me. Too exhausted for words, I held him for a moment with him still inside me as a brushed a few wet kissed up his neck and devoured his mouth, uncaring about the taste of sweat I'd just licked off him before I let him roll off. The both of us slouched together on the couch as all the alcohol of the night suddenly weighed much more heavily as we groggily tried covering up. I slipped back into my underwear and was uncaring about shrugging on Todd's t-shirt, but he didn't say a word if he cared, only making the effort to pull back up his boxer briefs anyways. I all but flopped back down beside him to enjoy the comfort of the couch cushions and couldn't help but feel a smile crawl across my lips as I tucked myself against Todd who's breathing was already beginning to sound deep.

"Isn't there a bed?" I couldn't help but mumble into his shoulder only to receive a half-conscious hum.

"Why'd we use the couch then?" I asked, a small laugh tickling his neck under my breath.

"Mmm," he groaned but I spotted a smirk slip over him as he pulled me closer. "Sorry darlin, maybe next time."

Sleepily rolling my eyes, I was too tired to scoff let alone tease him about 'next time', so I was content enough to let us both lull off to sleep since I was much too spent to move to the bed.

[center]-[/center]

However contrary to how peaceful I'd been when I fell sleep, it seemed Central Park's flames were all I could dream about. Lucid visions of my sister's haughty, unblemished face had become bloody and black from being charred as I could only watch frozen as she walked out from the surrounding fire, her mouth a gape as she screamed for me. The smell of burning hair and flesh were choking me as I watched my sister melt in front of me, the overwhelming stench of Nat's burning flesh was all but suffocating me as I tried to battle through the smokescreen she was howling through. But before I could run to her, I saw the claws of the dead, still alive even while up in flames, reach from out the fires and yank her further into the flames to join them. When I heard myself scream after her, my chest felt too constricted as if my lungs were being squeezed too tight and I could barely pull in a breath long enough to relieve them. Terror-stricken, I felt myself drop to my knees as I could only forlornly watch my sister pulled beyond my reach while useless tears leaked down my face. I couldn't help but sob and gag inbetween gasps,

clutching my neck from the effort of trying to hack back a decent inhale of air.

It wasn't until a figure ran up to loom over me, reaching down to yank me up so hard I would've yelped at how painfully they gripped me if I could breathe properly, but all I could do was wheeze a strangled cry as I thrashed to pull away from letting myself be thrown in with Nat. Though rather than drag me back, they shook me rather roughly, wobbling my head on my neck like a rag doll while I gasped for air between my shrieks of resistance and horror. Squeezing my eyes closed, I cried in despair at only being able to hear my sister's screams beyond the roar of fire so I attempted clamping my hands over my ears to block out Nat's torturous howls, but felt myself freeze when instead a much different, though familiar voice boomed loud in my face, startling me to snap my eyes back open.

"_Olive, it's a dream! You're_ dreaming."

Rather than reopening my eyes to encircling flames, I was in darkness. But the more I blinked I could make out Todd's face outlined by a light I hadn't remembered before. He was close and in my face with a deeply troubled expression furrowing his eyebrows and curving a frown as he searched me long and hard like a doctor diagnosing a disease. Trying to process what Todd was yelling in my face, I pieced together I must have fallen prone to another nightmare. Yet it seemed unlike the fires, my shortness of breath hadn't been left behind in my dream as I became consciously aware it was still incredibly difficult to inhale past an overwhelming weight I felt was caving in my chest. I found myself sputtering, like I was being held underwater, just below the surface enough to try sucking for air before a current lapped back over me. I tried to soothe my panicking lungs but it seemed I could never catch enough air when I tried to exhale and gasp for air, shuddering after another poor rattled gasp as I attempted to keep from choking.

"Shit man, Milton won't get up, he's too out of it." I hadn't realized Todd and I were no longer alone in the apartment we'd snuck off to and could hear others behind me.

"Stay with her!" Alarmed I tried to catch Todd but he already took off out the apartment front door before I could stammer to ask where he was going, Neema caught my hand instead and suddenly took his place sitting in front of me.

"Shh, shh." She tried to soothe me. "You're having an asthma attack. You need to calm down, you're 'vurking yourself up 'vurse."

I was trying to follow the woman's advise as I struggled to swallow and inhale but I could only gulp back a gasp at a time when I heard the hard thumps of footsteps run back from the hall. Todd hurried to slide back down next to me, pushing my inhaler against my lips and firmly instructing me to breathe. Sucking in the medication, I could only hold it in shortly and coughed from the strain of trying to extend my inhalations. Yet when I tried gulping for another breathe, I could feel the inhaler's effect at the slow relief inside my restricted chest.

"There you go. Deeper breaths, babe." Encouraging me to take a few more hits of my inhaler, I could gradually feel my lungs begin to allow themselves to expand enough to fill. Eventually, my shuddering was reduced to sobs when the emotion of remembering my dream seeped deep within my bones, reducing me to a weeping mess against Todd.

"It was just a dream."

However, my new found ease was short-lived when a sudden flood of warmth flooded my mouth, a lurch deep within my stomach bolted me up off the floor I hadn't realized I'd lying on, ripping out of Todd's hold to sprint for the restroom down the hall. I barely made it to the toilet before I hurled all the liquor from the night back up to leave a disgustingly sour taste behind in my mouth. I found myself practically curled around this strange apartment's toilet, practically feeling my temples throb as I felt a headache intensify with every heave. I could only clench my eyes while my body uncontrollably tensed at every gag, sounding like I'd turned into some monster, roaring and spewing erratically into the old distilled toilet water that had previously been clean. At last it seemed I was finally allowed to relax, my head lulled against the cold porcelain while I panted weakly as I struggled to get my breathing back under control. Spitting the last of my stomach, I eventually rose my head back up so I could take deeper breaths that didn't smell like vomit. Swiping a shaking hand over my mouth, I coughed to clear my throat and sighed tiredly, only barely realizing someone had been stroking my back and keeping my loose curtain of hair pulled away from the line of fire.

"Better?"

I dully nodded, suddenly feeling how drained and could only manage to shiver with my arms wrapped around my shaking abdomen as I leaned over the porcelain bowl. Under heavy-lidded eyelids I felt myself softly eased back and a cold, wet wash cloth wiped my face to ease my cheeks that felt burning hot. _Almost if the hues of heat from the fires in my dream still remained. _I was too disoriented still by the dream and becoming violently sick that I felt too debilitated to be self-conscious about creating a scene in front of an audience. I groaned at being scooped up away from the coolness of the toilet and hid my face in what felt to be Todd's chest and was grateful he carried me away from the attention and settled us somewhere into blankets. I closed my eyes and couldn't console the shakes that continued to wrack my body, silently crying into Todd's neck, uncaring I was dripping tears all down his chest while he continued to run his hands up and down my back. It reminded me of how fragile he'd touched me earlier.

"Wanna talk about it?"

I bit my lip and felt incapable of explaining in words what had just happened. Recalling the best night I'd had since the world fell apart almost a month ago, I felt embittered my subconscious would choose tonight to bring to life the worst of my fears for my family I would never know what became of. It had been exceptionally thoughtful of Todd to clear out an apartment for us and I felt stupid for spoiling the night. Even Penny hadn't caused such a scene. I knew everyone else had lost who-knows how many loved ones, yet I was the only one waking up hysterical at night with the nine-year-old little girl.

"I saw my sister." I murmured. "I saw her and she was dying."

I said it so monotonously, intentionally cold-shouldering his concern so he would leave it alone for now. There was a long pause between us before I felt his coarse chin hairs brush over my forehead as he eventually nodded and we remained quiet. Having been so tired only moments ago, I couldn't fall back asleep no matter how long I closed my eyes. I noticed we were back in Michael's spare bedroom we'd inherited after the Blakes moved apartments. After a long while of restlessness, I just pretended to fall asleep to allow Todd to rest. I could feel him stubbornly staying awake for my sake and once he thought I'd fallen back to sleep, the sound of his deep breaths came soon after. When assured he was fully unconscious, I peeked my eyes back open to stare fretfully up at the ceiling. It was no use trying to rub away the burning images behind my eyelids.

Tireless hours wore by and I eventually disentangled myself out from Todd, creeping out from the bedroom when I could bear it no more. On my way down the hall, the restroom door had been left ajar and could faintly make out Milton stretched out under a blanket on the tile floor, right beside a strategically placed waste bin. I felt a little regretful for laughing with the others, considering I had made much bigger of a mess. It was still very early from the saturation beginning to arise from the previous night sky peeking through the window curtains. Neema had gone back to sleep and was lying still across the couch while I could see Nick had taken to liberty of using the chair Milton usually used. Creeping quietly as not to awaken anyone while still in only my underwear and Todd's oversized shirt, I tip-toed with my bare feet across the living room to quietly slip out into the hall. Closing the door as soundlessly as I could manage, I padded down the hall back into the apartment we'd spent the night in. Picking through the strewn about clothing, I hurried to pull my jeans back up and switched the large shirt with my more proper-sized blouse I'd found hanging embarrassingly off a coffee table. I felt my face warm thinking it probably wasn't hard to miss to the others last night either.

Rather than return back into the apartment to drop off the rest of Todd's clothes, I didn't want to risk waking up anyone else, so instead I slunk out down to hall and frustratingly fanned the heat from my cheeks at the thought of approaching anyone who'd witnessed my episode. Squinting towards the morning sunlight beaming through the propped open door leading out to the roof, I padded up the steps and out under haze of periwinkle Georgian sky, the clouds already dispersed allowing the sun to brighten up the day already. Cupping my hands over my eyes to shield from the brightness until my eyes adjusted, I was able to make out Nick and Brian hunched in a pair of lawn chairs. Already the summer sun was was warming up the air, imagining was why Brain was wearing an almost obnoxiously big straw hat and Nick a fisherman type bucket hat. Nick had been looking out through the pair of binoculars he'd found with Philip in one of the apartments while the two were observing over the ledge of rooftop. Having most likely heard my footsteps up the stairs, Brian turned to squint over at me, realizing it was me and offering me a small smile and a wave.

"Hey you."

I smiled timidly over at his greeting as I approached, turning to glance and see if there was anything they had particularly been looking at. Seeing only the usual people- _dead people_ shuffling aimlessly amongst themselves. I cringed and averted my attention back to the two on watch. When there wasn't a meal of a living person in range, it was like they didn't know what to do with themselves as they wandering the streets and alleys from around the apartment.

"You been out here all night?" I asked, sympathetically noting how slow Nick was blinking behind the binocular lenses before turning to eye me for a moment before shrugging.

"Figured everyone could use the sleep. I sobered up hours ago," he replied off-handedly, pausing for a moment to continue a little more carefully. "Told Todd I'd be cool to take his watch."

I looked away bashfully and was unbearably uncomfortable as I nodded in understanding.

"I relieved my brother a while ago to stay with Penny." Brian cleared his throat a little awkwardly to try swaying the conversation and smiled a little wider in empathy.

"I can take over for you," I offered. "Get some sleep. I got it."

Nick consider my offer; I was aware of him silently observing me and I wondered if I looked about as tired as I thought he did. Though he relented, thanking me before passing me the binoculars, patting the back of my shoulder as he walked back down into the hall. Rather than resuming Nick's scanning, I passed off the binoculars to Brian. To be honest with myself, I avoided actually scanning around for signs of people in the city like the others, leaving it up to the others who seemed much more willing. I preferred the confines of the apartment floor, the only remaining semblance of what normalcy looked like only a month ago. It just felt too fucking unreal for me to swallow and look out the window at what the world had become. Streets were stained in blood and skeletons while reanimated corpses rotted under the ever increasing temperature. The approaching summer heat was the only recognizable feature about this now infected world. It was getting revolting how rotten the people shuffling around below were getting; skin sagged against bones grotesquely and once bloody wounds were cracked and black.

My eyes lingered instead upon the buckets encircled around the rooftop and frowned at the bareness when I bent down to inspect one.

"Kinda forgot to empty 'em in time." Brian said seeing me take notice to our poor attempts to try supplementing our drinking water. It felt like the nights were hardly much cooler than during the day, so with the tiny amounts of perspiration we did actually collect had to be grabbed at the delicate time of the morning before the sun dried it all up. Needless to say, this process was pretty tedious and I could even see Milton's frustration while constantly rearranging the ceran wrap for a better effect while most others, like Todd, had given up on relying on this to last us after the the distilled waters finished.

"Poor Milton. Must've been really out of it to not pick 'em up today." I was unable to suppress a smirk that insisted creeping up at the memory of how wasted their doctor had gotten last night; it was nice to see him less jittery and not so high-strung all the time.

I could hear a chuckle echo over from Brian's end. "Yeah, Phil said Nick wasn't too pretty either after we went to bed."

"Can't say I woke up feeling too peachy either," I mumbled. Keeping my hands occupied, I went to check the ties of our makeshift distress sign to avoid looking at the taller man. But thankfully we continued on together in silence; it wasn't exactly comfortable but Brian seemed to keep things casual enough that it wasn't awkward either. I found I liked this quality about the younger Blake brother, unlike Nick or even Michael, who could never keep a watch in silence for more than five minutes without needing to fill it with talking, I could allow myself to relax in Brian's presence without feeling the need to grasp at different conversation topics. In fact, up until last night, Brian had become reclusive and withdrawn from most decisions as the span of our time stuck here prolonged. Like me, he was withering under every day that passed and looked ever gloomier.

Eventually, there was so many times I could reinforce the knots tied on the ropes holding the bed sheet down across the rooftop before I resigned to join Brian over the concrete ledge looking down over the streets outside Michael's apartment complex. I scowled down at the ever-moving corpses, wondering when their feet would give out from their non-stop wandering.

"My brother mentioned he tried talking with Nick about what Todd brought up last night."

Raising an eyebrow up at the much taller man that was appreciatively blocking the sun from beaming down too directly from the east, he had taken a pause in looking through the binoculars to glance down at me.

"I think he's getting just as restless here as your boyfriend."

"Well look at our water," I offered. I didn't even agree with Todd but I found myself protecting his ideas. "We've got a week- maybe two if we start rationing more than we already have. What happens next?"

I couldn't help but extend my foot out to nudge one of the closest empty buckets and Brian nodding slowly, his eyes downcast in deep thought.

"I just honestly can't imagine any way that wouldn't put anyone's life in danger if we go down the other floors," he finally said, carefully like he was unsure how I would react.

Too exhausted to debate, physically and mentally, I resigned to just nod my acknowledgment, because he did have a perfectly valid point. We both took up silence again, he didn't continue to urge his concern and I didn't persist to prove Todd's ideas. It was actually refreshing to be out in the sunlight, almost alone for once, with the space I needed to clear my thoughts before the rest of the day. I hadn't seen exactly who had come in the room after my nightmare, but I'd heard enough voices and something about the air between us hinted that Brian at least heard what had happened. Yet he was kind enough not to bring it up on watch and I appreciated his courtesy not to discuss last night.

It wasn't too much later that it seemed Neema woke up. The woman shuffled in and softly put down the pots she'd carried in with her, keeping herself quiet not to wake any of the others down the hall I suspected were still knocked out. Everyday Neema wore that godforsaken scarf over her head and around her neck I felt myself growing increasingly exasperated with her. I was unable to relate to her, but that didn't mean I hadn't come to like the woman and her quiet interjections, offering reasonable suggestions- so I _knew_ she has quick witted. But why any reasonably _sane_ person would walk around with long sleeves and scarf practically wrapped around their whole face in almost a hundred degree weather. While I had snagged all the shorts and tank tops I could from all the clothing we'd gathered from the apartments, Neema had found a pair of white pants and had taken to consistently wearing them. The same went for her button up white blouse she seemed insistent in wearing against my attempts to at least get her to wear a goddamn shirt and let her arms breathe. The woman had a crazy heat tolerance. Pulling her dark scarf up like a shield from the sun, I saw her eyes crinkle over at us and I recognized she must be smiling over at us.

"Good morning," she greeted softly. "I would have gotten up sooner but I'm afraid that wine exhausted me."

Brian and I grinned back a knowing concurrence, remembering Milton hadn't been the only one to loosen up last night.

I was temporarily left with the binoculars when Brian hurried out to one of the apartments furthest down the hall but conveniently closest to the roof where we kept the furniture we'd been gradually tearing apart for fires. It was with reluctance that I took up watch alone, but at least it was something to do to keep me busy from having to see her inquisitive glances and only listened to her sort through everything she'd brought out with her to get breakfast ready.

"Olive?"

I turned and put down the binoculars, looking over to see Neema had stopped to wait on Brian but was looking over at me. After a while, I hummed my inquisition since it seemed she was waiting to rather get permission to continue. I could hear her words but they were so soft and the scarf didn't help, muffling her words that I couldn't make out a thing she said.

"Sorry, what?" I interrupted, squinting over at her crouched down fidgeting with the spice shakers.

She looked back up and seemed to sigh behind her scarf, pulling if down from over her mouth to finally expose her whole face. Neema got up from crouching beside the food to come stand beside me this time.

"I was asking if you would like to join me after breakfast to pick out a few more clothes?"

My instant reaction was surprise, but I hurriedly stifled it to play off that I wasn't relieved Neema was finally willing to switch to more comfortable clothing.

"Course," I shrugged and smiled. "We have a few bags of clothes we separated from the guys' we could give another look through."

"I'd like that." Feeling myself almost enthused about the idea, already thinking over the clothes I remembered seeing that I'd passed over that Neema might find better to her liking.

Brian returned with two tall stool-chairs, a lighter, stacks of newspaper we collected, and a hatchet we'd found from someones tool boxes. Over the past month, most of us had become pretty good at starting up a fire, thanks to Todd who knew from being such a camping guru

and taught the rest of us, though there were the few preferences, discluding Milton and I in particular who simply flopped at keeping one to stay on for longer than a few minutes. But Brian did just fine as we patiently waited while the man went to hacking away at the thin wooden stool legs that didn't need much to dislodge them. Not a muscular man in the slightest, Brian was skinny and in fact almost reminded me of a boy's body if it wasn't for his towering height, but he certainly didn't seem to be struggling to separate the chair legs. Due to the heat of the day already beginning to rise, the poor guy worked up quite a sweat after finishing the second chair and swiped at his sandy hair stuck to his forehead soaked from sweat. Once he was finally able to efficiently start the fire, Neema placed her bucket of water over so it would boil and poured the pasta linguini inside to begin stirring.

I asked out of politeness if she wanted any help, but since I burned our last pack of rice (and almost started a fire on the roof when I unthinkingly poured water to try putting out the small flame, forgetting there was oil in the pot which caused the flame to flare up even huger) Neema tended to decline she needed assistance.

"Need more than just drinking water," I poked fun at the guy's sweat stains already forming under his arms. "Bathing should be up in the top priority list. You guys're getting gross."

Brian looked up from trying to crinkle and ball up more newspapers to feed the fire and arched an eyebrow over towards me while Neema just grinned between us. One would almost think it was in fondness.

"I'll make sure to pencil that in." Smirking at his sarcasm, I turned back to Neema to leave him to get the fire going and saw she was pouring some water into the pot she'd brought and was waiting for Brian before tearing open a linguini's noodle packet. _Yay, more noodles._ It seemed like that was what was left after burning through all the rest of the groceries, but I tried not to complain and be grateful it was something still.

Philip and Penny were the first to reemerge from the apartment. I noticed amusedly how the little girl's hair was brushed up into a rather bumpy ponytail that was practically tied on the top of her head and noted I'd offer to fix it for her later. At least the poor guy was trying, I thought to myself, remembering many weird, scraggly ponytails of my own growing up from my own dad until Nat and I eventually just did our own for each other. Penny right away found her uncle, hugging onto the back of the tall man's legs to earn her a ruffle through her hair when Brian turned from his scanning to greet a good morning to his niece. I noticed Brian's smile was much brighter when it was for her. Philip approached us as well, stifling a yawn into his hand for a moment before greeting us.

"Anythin' new?" he asked.

After yawning too, the younger brother shook his head indifferently. "Same 'ol same 'ol."

Nodding, he looked down tiredly himself for a few moments before breathing a soft, slow sigh. I'd been trying to stifle a contagious yawn of my own behind my hand while I stretched when his gaze finally turned away and down at me, stopping me mid-stretch.

"Ya'lright?"

I sighed, feeling the heat rise back in my cheeks as I nodded. His empathetic stare didn't comfort me in the least, only making me feel like a bigger idiot for waking everyone up in the middle of the night.

"Don't worry 'bout it huh?" Rather than linger to get an assurance from me, Philip turned to steer Penny with him to go grab the bowels and more chairs for breakfast. Footsteps came from the stairway and we turned to see Todd squinting as he stepped out from the hallway. Our gazes found each other and I could tell by his uneasy grimace he was hurt waking up to me gone. My eyes flickered away guiltily but Todd's attention was drifted behind him as Michael emerged with a ghostly pale Milton. His hangover didn't seem to show him any mercy against the gleaming sun as he shuffled groggily behind his friend.

"He's alive!" Philip chuckled, causing a few of us to cringe at the volume. Milton groaned while plopping down into a seat Michael pulled up for him, burying his face in his hands to rub at his eyes under his glasses.

"Yes, he might not feel like it for a while, but he'll live." Michael smiled, patting his ex-physician's shoulder. Neema hurried forward with a glass of water, whispering words of encouragement that I couldn't quite hear but Milton took it appreciatively, a small smile twitched across his lips before he winced to thank her.

Breakfast went by quietly for the most part, most of us nursing our own headaches from the previous night of drinking. Knowing it was all from dehydration, I distributed cups of water out to everyone while we waited for Neema to mix in the Alfredo sauce to go along the linguini noodles. Unfortunately, Milton hadn't been able to even keep water down for too long before he was bent over one of the empty buckets, throwing back up any fluids we'd tried getting hm to drink. When I offered up Todd's cup, a heavy tangent air hovered between us, lingering me longer than the others. As I was about to withdraw my hand and resume distributing glasses , he gently tugged my hand back and stilled my retreat until I dragged my eyes to glance up to sheepishly meet his gaze.

"How you feeling?" he asked, his eyes imploring me for an answer I knew wasn't just in concern about my hangover.

But I pretended and shrugged. "About the same as everybody else."

Luckily it didn't take Neema too much longer to finish and we all resumed to seat ourselves amongst each other, a habit we'd grown into ever since our first meal on the roof. It was a close margin between the apartment and outside were hotter. Thank goodness Nick and Michael had come up on umbrellas a week or so ago, so with the shade and Georgia's small but appreciated breeze, some would say it was more relieving to be outside when you got past the persistent stench of rotting flesh cooking under the sun below us. Huddling under the beach umbrellas, we passed around servings and when Neema's pan was passed to me, I shushed my growling stomach and served myself a conservative amount. I'd seen how low we were getting on food a few days ago and couldn't help but feel painfully conscious about how much was used.

Considering Neema had reserved herself and only drank sparingly last night, she felt better than most of us and had finished her food in a timely manner. Unlike Todd, who didn't seem to have much of an appetite as picked at his food and every so often stopped to breathe back his nausea no doubt. Milton dry heaved at so much as the smell when the linguini was passed, so we reserved to save him and Nick a portion for later. But that definitely wasn't my case, since I'd already been sick, I couldn't wait to shovel down the sauced noodles to ease the famished growls vibrating off the walls of my hollow stomach. Most of us remained quiet throughout breakfast and I was especially suspicious of Todd's lack of conversation, especially when he didn't take to joining most conversations of Philip or Michael tried to start flop while the rest of us were too tired from last night. It surprised me to see her sit up and approach me.

"Shall we go look through the clothes?" She'd asked so quietly, as if timid about other people hearing she was having desires to change into more comfortable clothing. I attempted to act indifferently to keep this casual, though Todd had to spoil it my looking up shocked at the poor woman.

"Sure, I'm supposed to be taking Nick's for watch right now..." I hadn't expected her to be so eagered to go clothes sorting so soon. After so long of relying that the guys would find a rescue eventually, I felt guilty they were resilient after so long and tried to incorporate myself more fairly into their watch rotations.

"I got it," Todd interrupted. We'd discussed Neema's attire to each other before and I knew he must be equally pleased to hear the woman was willing to accommodate herself more agreeably to the heat. "He was taking my watch anyways."

I was already opening my mouth to protest before he shook his head, shooing me away decidedly. "Go."

Reluctantly agreeing, I was a bit surprised Todd was encouraging me off instead of trying to drag me into a private corner to pry about last night, so I took advantage and sat up to go follow Neema to wash our bowls out.

"What's this about clothes?" As we were about to duck out back to the apartment, we turned to see Philip was looking inquisitively after us. So much for being discreet.

Saving Neema the trouble, I answered for her. "Just gunna go look through some of the clothes bags some more."

"Mind if we go with ya'll?" Our faces must've looked confused as breathed out a tentative laugh before adding quickly. "Penny could use a little more is all, and I've never known how to shop very well-"

"It's cool Philip," I assured to quiet his rambling. "I'm sure there's at least some shirts she could wear."

So the both of us trailed back into the hall, with Philip and his little girl following after us after Philip wiped their bowls out. All was quiet, and when we passed through the hall and I observed the stacked furniture still blocking the stairwell and intact. There was no way I could imagine tampering with that barricade that we were so lucky to still have intact, just thinking about Todd's idea to venture down into the other floors sent my stomach to clench in knots. I wasn't sure how the others felt, but we were silent our whole trip down the hall until we were closing Michael's apartment door behind us.

To save the room in the already crowded front room, the guest bedroom Todd and I had taken to sleeping in also stored the bags of clothes we'd collected from Michael's disappeared neighbors. We'd separated the woman's clothes into their own bags and the guy's clothes into a few others, making it easier to pick things out much easier. It was awkward to see the guys plucking through bras and panties and Philip had expressed he wasn't comfortable with his daughter sorting through boxers and briefs either. Being rather heavy bags, Philip helped Neema and I haul them up on the bed so we could begin searching through them.

Pulling out a few pants that had been on top, I quickly tossed them aside on the bed to pull others, pretending to ignore Neema's inquisition to see them considering she already had a pair and refused to contribute to anymore. Finding a pair of jean shorts, I held them up suggestively, but more as a joke since I seriously doubted Neema would allow herself to show so much leg in shorts. Seeing my jesting hadn't exactly lightened her shock at what I showed her and quickly laid it back down to find something more suitable before I scared her off. Instead, I pulled out a pair of white capris that seemed like they could fit Neema.

"What about these?" I asked, unfolding them to hold up to her waist to measure their length on her. "C'mon, can't your ankles breathe?"

Neema smiled tentatively but didn't seem to blanch so uncomfortably at these pair of capri bottoms which I took as a good sign.

"Yeah Miss Neema, aren't you hot?" Penny added. Philip coughed and placed a hand on the little girl's shoulder, signaling a silent warning between the two as if they were addressing a topic already discussed.

"Well she won't be for long," I interrupted, saving Neema the trouble with a reassuring smile to lighten up the situation.

We shuffled through the bag and sorted maybe's to no-ways, but I soon began to see a pattern of white among Neema's choices. I found it odd, but didn't protest when she agreed to a short sleeved blouse I suspected she singled out for its color. Meanwhile, we tried out best to make a little fashion show of Penny's wardrobe who didn't seem too enthused about trying on any clothes we suggested for her. The girl didn't complain, but hardly showed anything of much other emotion and I could see Philip squirming under the pressure of trying to encourage his daughter to pick practical clothing. I couldn't help but soften towards the poor girl who I suspected might be going into some kind of shock. Children coped much differently and I couldn't help but feel miserable at seeing her so silent and reclusive; I could only imagine how Philip must be trying to handle his daughter's numbness. But despite her quiet demeanor, I could see she favored a few of the floral print girls' dresses we'd found. They weren't exactly practical, but I don't think her father had much heart to tell her no and allowed her to try them on. Of course, they fit her loose but that didn't seem to bother her in the slightest, so we all gushed over how beautiful she looked and allowed her to try on a few more under the condition she tried on shirts and shorts after. While we waited for her appearance from the rest room, we continued sorting through clothes until I came across a particularly long, thin scarf. It was leopard print with a few roses dappling the pattern, but the material was polyester and felt much lighter to wrap up Neema's hair in than the thick, sun-absorbing black cloth of a veil she wore.

"Hey Neema?" I inquired, holding up the material and picked up my own curtain of hair to help her guess what I meant it for since her guess turned from quizzical to apprehensive. "Dear god, woman. If you wear that thick heat-rag another day, you're gunna give _me_ a heat stroke."

She seemed reluctant to try on the new head scarf and Philip cleared his throat a bit hesitantly before he smiled understandably towards us. "I can turn around? Ain't gotta see nothin'."

Holding up his hand in mock surrender, he turned his back on us to just stare towards the door to wait for Penny to come back out. He remained adamant to remain completely turned from view as he leaned against the door frame to give Neema her privacy. Wriggling my fingers for her to come hither, she eventually sighed and nodded with a nervous glance at Philip before she followed my beckoning and slowly slipped off her veil. I was astounded that rather than see the dark flow of hair flow out from under, her hair hung shaggily just barely past her ears and stuck to the back of her sweat-soaked neck. Her miles of black hair I'd rarely caught a sight of underneath her head scarf was hacked almost completely off. I couldn't help but gasp in shock, startling Philip to turn around quickly to see what had alerted me before being stunned himself at Neema's bare appearance. I hastily assured him to turn back around before gaping at the woman.

"Oh- _your hair? _Why'd you cut it so short?" I hadn't meant to embarrass her- it's just, her hair had looked so natural and beautifully long, and now with it so short it made Neema look much older somehow.

Her eyes were downcast for a long time before she replied in a shamed whisper. "I should have shaved it...that is the 'vay in my culture, but I find I am much to vain." I didn't know what to say to that and she must have known I was lost to her reasoning before she added quietly. "Widows remove their hair after the loss of their husband."

Nodding slowly, I wasn't exactly sure how to respond. I couldn't help but feel terribly sad for Neema; she'd lost her whole family and now hacked away her long locks as a very harsh reminder.

"I am to pledge myself only to God now," she replied softly and ran her hand over her pile of white clothing I knew couldn't have been an coincidence. "Vedic traditions would require I wear white and be cast as a sudra."

A part of me wanted to hurriedly change the subject at how uncomfortable it made me. But I couldn't stop all the questions bubbling from within me that stemmed from my own doubts of faith.

"Well Neema..." I paused for a few moments trying to gather my thoughts to express them. "I don't think it makes a difference to anyone here what you wear. And I don't think God cared about what any of those people were wearing who're dead now."

I bit my lip and realized I'm worded my thoughts terribly. It was horribly insensitive and I was about to apologize, but Neema's gaze didn't seem put off or offended. Instead, she almost looked understanding as she even offered a very small, sad smile.

"I understand how you would feel that 'vay-"

"How about this?" We were startled when Penny quietly came from the room in a long pastel purple dress with a heart-shaped neckline where it would support a bust, but instead fell limp and low on the flat chested little girl. I had almost forgotten Philip had been standing there and must have heard our tense conversation, but Neema and I were both relieved for a moment to giggle at the mature dress she had attempted to wear.

"Penny," Philip sighed from the doorway. "That's much too grown up for you sweetheart."

I couldn't help but stifle a small laugh at seeing how this short, knee-high dress almost looked like a sundress on Penny.

"You look beautiful though hun." Penny smiled softly up at Philip and didn't seem too put off her rejected her dress. "C'mon now, let's go try those shorts on Olive gave ya', an' hurry up now so someone else gets a turn." I noticed Philip still hadn't turned around but kept his view on his little girl in the doorway he'd moved out of the way from to allow us to get a look. However, Penny was looking right towards us and her eyes widened.

"Ms. Neema you got a hair-cut?" she gasped. But the woman only smiled and nodded her head to assure the little girl.

"Go on Penny," Philip interjected cautiously, urging to girl back to the bathroom to finish trying on the clothes we'd picked out for her. While Penny went back to change, I beckoned Neema closer so I could start sizing up how I would wrap up her head the way she'd done with her other one. She allowed me with a weary sigh, but inclined to let me bundle up the little hair she had left to put up in the new material, wrapping it under her chin to mimic her other scarf and draped it over her shoulders. She looked up skeptically at my wrap, but turned to the mirror and admired it silently for a while. She adjusted it a few times to cover more of her hairline and hid her ears, but seemed to not entirely hate the idea of a new head scarf that wasn't so black and absorbed heat. If I saw a woman wearing such a print before all this, I might have snorted but we didn't have too many fashion choices to work with, under only the charity of whatever clothing had been left behind by the former residences.

"Not bad," I told her earnestly, smiling at her through the mirror. "Huh Philip?"

The man seemed hesitant to turn around and Neema looked utterly bashful under my praise, especially under the other man's stare, but I figured she should start getting used to men's attention considering we were living with six of them rather than hide below rhe radar like she was accustomed to. The man glanced over at us and a small smile waned across his lips as he nodded an agreement I was looking for.

"Not bad at all," he said lightly, and I admired his complete chasteness.

It wasn't long before Penny came back out in the pair of purple shorts and a Roxy shirt that seemed to hang a bit long on her but I suspected the little girl who's clothes these were had been a bit older than her. I had speculated that the family these belonged to had a little girl and an older teenager when Philip had told us about the woman and girl's clothes he got for us when sweeping the apartments. It stung to shrug on any tshirt and button or zip up pants we had looted, but considering we didn't have much to bathe ourselves with, we needed as many change of clothes as we could get. Penny tried on a few more similar outfits that Philip assured she'd grow into before I urged Neema in to try on a few more clothes I'd helped her pick.

Philip was about to retreat with Penny as I waited for Neema to come out, informing me that he'd keep watch in the hall. I guessed he didn't want to impose anymore uncomfortableness on the sensitively modest woman so I assured him we'd be fine and ushered him off.

But as Philip was about to close the front door behind him and Penny, a very loud and distinctive bang echoed from the hall and from out Michael's window. I felt myself freeze and the door froze ajar as Philip seemed just as startled. There was a moment we all looked at each other, Penny's eyes were wide when the next moment her father snapped to his senses to take her hand and beckoned me to hurry and follow. Calling out to Neema, I was about to knock on the door for her to hurry out but she had already opened the door and was staring just as frightened back at us. Wordlessly we wasted no time as I grabbed a hold of her arm and pulled her after us to run back out into the hall to the roof. We ran into Nick who must've woken from the piercing crack and was also rushing to see what was going on outside as well. Blinking away the bright glint of the outside, we rushed to the roof's ledge where everyone had crowded towards to look down into the streets below. I gasped to see what was the commotion happening below.

A small group of people had attempted traveling into the city by the looks of it and their vehicle they had driven in with was now completely mobbed with the dead. We heard plenty of people succumbing to the dead, but never so close to our building let alone right where we could see. My breath caught in horror at seeing the people who had abandoned the blocked car were scrambling to flee the dead clambering crazily after them. A girl attempted to sprint off down one of the nearby alleys since she'd been cut off from the direction the rest of her group had been backing up in, but was quickly cornered and the dead wasted no time and felt no sympathy as they lunged after her, Blood spurted like a torn open fire hydrant as a monster in a business suit tore her neck open while another school-girl dressed body hurried to take the others lead and grabbed onto one of her flailing arms to take a mouthful of flesh for itself. I couldn't stop myself from choking up at the girl's screams torn from her throat and turned to helpless gurgles as the infected sunk it teeth in deeper for another bite, reminding me how Zhao had been killed and turned into Todd's shoulder. Strangely, I hadn't even acknowledged he was beside me until I was already turning into him. Another sharp bang made me jump and I couldn't restrain myself from looking back down to see that they were coming from the group, from a woman more specifically, who was now shooting off rounds to defend off herself and a few others who had scurried behind the gun's protection. But more dead were flooding the streets by the second, the gun might as well serving as a beacon for every mobile dead in the city.

"Fuck man, they're goners-"

"We've got to do something!"

The rest of us were biting our nails at the massacre about to unfold below. Todd's presence had suddenly disappeared as I turned in shock to see him and Philip drawing their guns and without any debate began firing down shots to help the first group of survivors we've seen. A man with a hammer had been helping protect the other three took out a few rather admirably until the infected jumped on one of the woman while he was distracted bashing through the cranium of another infected that had tried to go for the woman with the gun. The lady dropped the knife she'd attempted to slash at it with, shrieking now in agony as it tore at her clothes, managing to shred her shirt as it shook it's had like a dog trying to play tug of war, ripping through the fabric and into her shoulder. The hammer-wielding man exclaimed in abhorrence and ran back to whack away the corpse, impaling it through the side of its skull with the pry-like side, my stomach rolling in disgust when he yanked it back out to splatter blood and spill brain matter across the cooking Atlanta street. Like locusts, the dead attacked the woman's flesh, burying her under their own decayed bodies to leave nothing but a crowd tearing out organs to madly distribute throughout the starving. The group could only leave behind the very far-gone woman, the man staying to wildly swing at the dead ripping a member of his group but to only be ambushed from behind when he raised his arm to bash the attacking dead from the front and grabbed by another from behind to rip a chunk from his forearm. The woman attempted shooting off the infected gnawing on the man's arm, but too many were now clambering to get their own bite of his flesh in their starvation. Now with his blood in the air, all hell broke loose and he was rapidly buried under the mass of dead to be devoured. Another boy was swinging what looked to be some kind of gardening hoe, running alongside the woman wielding the gun and frantically swinging back to try keeping back the dead. The poor kid was clearly petrified while another girl beside him was screaming and clinging tightly shirt. With the group reduced so rapidly in a matter of seconds trying to flee on foot, the woman fired off shots to uselessly ward off the numbers of dead vastly approaching and with no one to cover her, I saw an infected man making his way as fast as he could limp from behind her and the closer it approached she still hadn't taken notice. About to cry out for her imminent demise I saw coming, a shot beside me made me jump and I looked to see the shot had come from Todd's pistol this time. I turned to look back down and the corpse was put down by Todd's well-aimed shot while the woman was looking right back at us this time, spotting who had just saved her.

"The fire escape!" Michael tried hollering down, much like he had to us the day he'd saved us. All of us joined in hollering and pointed to indicate to make a run for the metal stairs that had still been left hanging from when we'd pulled it down in our own haste. She seemed to get the idea as she all but dragged the screaming and sobbing girl, shouting at the boy with them as they made a bolt for the metal ladder while she shot the dead in their path.

Todd and Philip both took out the dead chasing after them, providing the group cover and a chance to make it to the fire escape. I had been beside Todd as he shot off the infected on our first initial escape through Atlanta, but looking at him so concentrated and firing off shots from his pistol, barely flinching against the force behind of the handgun's recoil as he fired of rounds with deadly precision with Philip, who seemed to just as accurate of a shot. It left me speechless; knowing my boyfriend liked to go hunting and camping, that he enjoyed going to the shooting range was one thing, but seeing him handle the weapon with such calm precision as he blasted holes through the brains of infected down below was like watching another person. And I wasn't sure if that left me so breathless because this unsettled me or I admired this side of Todd.

I didn't have too long to ponder on the matter before my attention was drawn back to the remaining three who finally were able to make it through the flocking infected to the side of the apartment complex. The young girl was the first one to be hoisted up by the boy who scrambled up after her, wasting no time climbing after her up the metal ladder. The woman with the gun eventually lowered her gun to hurry and pull her weight up to follow after the other two up the fire escape, kicking away the jaws of one of the dead that had been reaching to pull her back down by her pant leg. She yelled up for the girl to keep climbing who had stopped and held up the boy behind her to ironically scream down for the woman to hurry. Michael and Nick hurried down the hall and we relaxed when we saw their heads poke outside the apartment window to beckon them up to the eighth floor. The girl climbing up first was sobbing rather loudly as she climbed, tears streaking lines down her dirty, ashen cheeks while the boy behind her looked equally as frightened, his eyes wide as he urged her on ahead of him. Todd and Philip kept their guns trained on the dead below that had gathered around the ladder incase any attempted to climb. We were still unsure of the infected's capability from just watching them from a distance on top of a rooftop but they seemed to all be too feeble to pull themselves up after their prey and could only reach up longingly for the living that was disappearing from their grasp.

After Nick and Michael succeeded getting them through the window, we all ran back through the hall and into the apartment. I was startled to be met with a gun pointed towards all of us, Michael and Nick already had their arms up in surrender from having the end of this woman's pistol trained previously on them.

Philip had quickly yanked Penny behind him in the doorway as he narrowed his gaze towards the woman and pointed his revolver right back, outnumbering her when Todd was quick to back him up.

"Woah, hey now- there's'a lil' girl here- _put it down_," Philip barked, for the first time I saw him look distasteful towards the group who he'd just helped. The girl that had been in tears was now hushed and clutching the woman's arm who was gripping her gun with a slight tremble up at us with a cold silence other than her soft pants of exhaustion. The girl sucked in a loud breath and stared back and forth with her big hazel eyes between the stare down as she was unable to deter her companion. She was young, maybe only a couple years older than my own little sister, with short, bright ginger hair and her clothes were about as dirty as her face, almost hiding her pale, freckled complexion. The woman holding her gun up back at Todd and Philip, looked a stark contrast next to her very petite companion; she had a much fuller figure and looked older, closer to my age, but just as ragged as the rest of her remaining, teenage-aged group members she'd traveled in with. I would never use the word fat to describe someone, but she was definitely an overweight woman with longer, dark black hair and stared back with almost equally as dark eyes. The boy seemed too in shock to have much of a say, his body was shaking and he looked about to go in some kind of shock from witnessing the former people of his caravan eaten alive before his eyes.

"Are you for real? We just saved your asses!" The tense gun-drawn stare down was interrupted by none other than a snapping Nick.

The girl was trying to whisper a plead for the woman to put down the gun as she sniffed through more tears threatening to burst from those wide doe-eyes of hers, but was ignored and the darker haired of the two narrowed her eyes like she was trying to deliberate something about us.

"Who're you?" she all but demanded. I wasn't sure what to reply but the men with the guns stepped forward.

"We're survivors- now you outta' put that shit down first before we chit-chat," Todd hissed.

"I don't 'outta' do nothin'!" she snarled back suddenly and tightened her hold on her gun. I felt incredulous that the first people we see in weeks has us at gun point, sending a frightened chill up my spine at her disturbing caution of us since all we knew was Michael's kindness.

Suddenly, there was a click that echoed through the room. When I whirled around I was stunned to see it was _Neema _flicking off the safety from what I realized was the little pistol Todd said he'd given her. I gaped as she came forward to stand beside Todd and Philip, training a third gun against this hostile stranger. We ran off so abruptly from her trying on clothes, I hadn't realized she'd bolted from the room in the white capris and matching white cotton half-sleeved blouse. The dark complexion of her bare arms and ankles were a pleasant surprise indeed. Todd and Philip's eyes mirrored everyone else's wide-eyed apallment to see the gentle, conservative woman step forward. I didn't even know if Neema knew how to shoot that thing, but she sure tried to hold it like she did.

"Did you not hear?" the Hindu woman said sharply, his accent thick in her anger. "We have a _child_. Now put a'vay your weapon."

The woman seemed embittered to surrender her only leverage, but slowly lowered her gun when it seemed she realized we outnumbered them.

"Now, let's just.." Philip breathed stoically and raised his hands in a gesture of peace, "put the guns aside, there's no need for this."

Philip glanced over at Todd and Neema and nodded for them to follow his lead. Neema hesitantly lowered the borrowed revolver, but Todd refused to lower his handgun until the woman placed her pistol on one of Michael's tables and offered up her hands in a silent surrender. When she held up her own hands, I could then notice how intensely she had been shaking and caught her gulp back a shuddering breath. I wondered if Todd saw this as well and finally lowered his own gun. This surprisingly was met with a scoff, turning to see Nick staring in disbelief.

"She just had a gun on us!" he began to protest, glaring over at the woman he returned a vehement scowl right back.

"Please." We were all surprised to be interrupted by the sniffling girl as she hiccuped back what sounded like a sob before clearing her throat to try speaking up. "P-please. We're just scared."

I felt heartbroken for this girl who looked exhausted and just as shaky as the woman who relented their defense.

"There was seventeen of us," the boy chimed in quietly since he'd climbed in through the window. Taking real notice of him this time, I found it ironic how scrawny and timid the boy was who survived when the much bigger, grown man had fallen under the dead. The kid couldn't be hardly over twenty, his skin tanned and his dark eyes gave away he must be some type of Asian- maybe Filipino. "Half of us weren't killed by the dead before we got here."

This stilled us all for a moment and I felt my eyebrows furrow in confusion. People were being killed by something other than the infected?

Milton must have been following my same train of thought as he hesitantly piped in. "What do you mean? Has the infection manifested beyond blood pathogens-"

"He's not talking about anyone infected," the older woman sighed, speaking up at last, her voice sounding husky and scratched. As she was opening her mouth to throw more scorns, she studied us quizzically for a moment. Instead, she retorted slowly, "How long have ya'll been here?"

We all exchanged a worried look between us all before Milton spoke up, "We're uh, going on a month and three week."

This seemed to appall the other three as they shared looks of their own between each other.

"Well you've been lucky," the dark-haired woman breathed. "The world doesn't seem to have many survivors. Just monsters."

None of knew what to say to this. Her words seemed to have the same effect as getting the wind knocked out from me. I wasn't sure how much longer I could stand under the weight of her words and felt myself go into a daze trying to process them. _Just monsters._ Something about the way the girls shook in our presence sent a haunting chill through me.

"We were robbed on the highway here," the young boy explained. "A lot of us tried to fight back...we thought there'd be a refugee camp still from the broadcasts."

All of us seemed to collectively cringe at hearing about the same broadcast that attracted the rest of us here.

"Well this is the closest thing you're gunna find to a refuge," Brian grumbled from somewhere behind me.

"Is this all of you?" the younger ginger-haired girl asked. "Or-or there's more who made it?"

She was looking pleadingly at us with those watering eyes and I felt awful to be the bearer of more bad news. But it was Michael who stepped forward to take the burden. "I'm afraid not sweetheart. Most people left when we started hearing the National Guard was losing control of the city."

The boy leaned back against the wall, his shoulders exhaustively sagged as he tilted his head back against the wall to shut his eyes and sighed heavily while this piece of information soaked in. This also seemed to pain the other two; the younger girl hiccuped another loud, shuddering sob and turned to bury herself into the older woman, who although shrewd and distrustful as she came off, she didn't bat an eye and anticipated the girl's tears with open arms already. Her body also seemed to sag as she only stared numbly down at the girl crying her heart out into her collar.

"So there's no one else?" the woman whispered, her eyes narrowing at us, so contradicting to the soothing strokes she offered to the crying girl I guessed had to be more than her acquaintance.

"Not that I know of," Michael replied carefully. "I barricaded this floor with the only other person still around...we haven't a clue on the other floors' conditions since."

"But you don't know for certain?" her voice turning abruptly sharp, but Michael held his own under her hard glare. "The other person, was he someone who lived here too?"

"Yes, he was," Michael answered slowly. "But I haven't seen him since."

"What happened? How'd he get out?" I could feel the unease seep from the poor man and started to grow irritated at her insensitivity. Michael had skirted the question once so we had been careful not to push him on the subject.

"He was my neighbor, and his wife had gone to the store earlier that day it all hit Atlanta and hadn't come back in hours," Michael said solemnly. "When everything was going mad outside, he helped me block off the staircase... he couldn't bring himself to stay, so he left out the fire escape to find her. He was supposed to bring her back."

Everyone seemed to be listening intently to Michael's confession and I couldn't help but feel terribly sympathetic, having an idea which apartment was the neighbors and knew the guys had taken plenty from and had been wearing plenty of clothes we'd acquired from it. Yet Michael had never said a word.

"I'm sorry," the strange woman finally said after a long silence between everybody. She actually showed other emotions besides skepticism as she sounded truly sincere.

"What about the fourth floor?" the girl had lifted her head from the woman's shoulder to look up with a wet face. "Did you know what happened to anyone in 2D?"

"No, I'm sorry," Michael admitted.

"Our parents lived here," the darker haired woman explained. "We've been trying to make it here since the broadcasts."

She breathed a dark chuckle as she gazed around the room. "We were hoping they'd be safe at the refugee camp, but when we saw this... we thought maybe they'd have stayed to hide here."

We all fell into another tense silence except for a thud of metal that fell to Michael's floor as the scrawny boy dropped the garden hoe he'd been using. The poor kid look utterly exhausted and sickly pale as he eased down the wall near the window they'd clambered through, his knees up to his chest

as he slowly sat on the apartment floor. I felt inclined to grab some water for these people about to pass out but the woman distracted us with more inquisitions.

"This place looked pretty intact from the outside. All this time and you haven't checked the other floors?"

I glanced uneasily at Todd, he still seemed to have his hackles raised around the woman who'd just drawn a gun on us but seemed to be intently thoughtful on the first piece of news we'd heard from anyone on the outside world. I could practically see the wheels turning in his head before Philip spoke up.

"We haven't a clue how many infected could be down there so we haven't risked tamperin' with Mr. Coleman's barricade that's concealed us all this time," he explained, defending our caution against her attitude.

"Well I'm going to look for my family." She said it so decisively I'm sure I wasn't the only one startled by it. And it didn't surprise me to hear Nick as the first to protest.

"Hey lady, you think we're just gunna let you waltz in here and take down what good thing we've got going here," he snapped. "_We've_ avoided losing people and we'd like to keep it that way."

It was a harsh stab at such a recent tragedy. I bit my lip as the woman visibly bristled and didn't seem to appreciate this comment one bit. She seemed about to snarl back before Brian stepped in before anymore regretful words were exchanged.

"Cut it out man," the younger Blake brother warned and tried reasoning much more reproachfully. "If there were others, they would've heard us by now. Surely they would've tried reaching out by now-"

"I'm _looking_," she insisted coldly. "I didn't come all this way- get all those people killed to give up based off just your word."

I was surprised by the bitter venom she snapped at us with, but before I could become too upset aout it, I remembered how many the boy said they'd lost and the ones who were still probably being torn at outside. I reel back my own defensiveness since I could understand where she was coming from. I'd make damn sure I'd scourer everywhere I knew my family might be if I could ever make it so far...

"Relax, I'll leave your precious barricade alone."

At this, even her sister seemed to look at her questionably.

"What've you got in mind?" Todd inquired carefully.

"The fire escape," she replied slowly, still looking deep in thought as she formulated her own plan on the spot. "Like your neighbor. Insteada' leavin', I'll break into the fourth floor's window and get to our parents' place from there."

"That floor could be overrun, you have no idea what you could be walking into," Brian exclaimed.

"We closed the building door, but it's complete glass," Michael informed. "It could be shattered by now."

"So who knows how many infected could be wandering free-roam out there," Nick said and I couldn't help but find myself nodding in agreement.

"Well you shouldn't be the one worrying then, I didn't exactly involve you in this," she growled, her dark eyebrows furrowing contemptuously at Nicks persistence.

"But the thing is," I couldn't help but chime in as the realist. "If something should happen and you attract more up here, the dressers and bookshelves I'm sure can only stand so much. It kind of does involve us."

The woman's hostile glare was then turned on me, I could see her sizing up her opinion of me as she hadn't seemed to notice my presence before giving me a pretentious scoff. I felt myself bristle and defensively felt my own eyes narrowing as I prepared for her argument but Todd stepped in.

"Let's hold up a sec," he hurriedly interjected. "It's an idea- but it could be smarter. If they hear you smashing glass you could get trapped from all floors. Or bring more in from outside if the doors are busted."

"How 'bout if we checked the first floor first," Philip reasoned slowly, deep in his own contemplation that sent shocked looks across Nick and the Blake family's faces. "Get a look at the doors before we go bargin' straight to the fourth. If they're intact then the building might not be as compromised as we think."

"You can't be serious?" Nick blanched. "You want in on this?"

The woman didn't seemed to pleased about this either. "I didn't ask-"

"If you're goin' down I rather help than risk ya'll bringin all of Atlanta down on us," Philip snipped almost dismissively at her protest before turning to square off with Nick. "We've been talkin' about needin' supplies, this could be our shot."

"Seven more floors of food and water," Todd mumbled. I couldn't help but notice Todd wisely let Philip take the reins of persuasion this time.

"Or seven more floors of those cannibal freaks," Nick snapped back.

Everyone was silent in a split decision. Until Milton piped in. "I'm sorry I have to agree. Say the doors are broken. What then?"

"If the entrance is exposed we can't just leave it," Brian said. "You've seen how many there are wandering around out there. We've been lucky and it might just be a matter of time before too many could wander in."

"And like Olive said, if any catch on, what's blockin' the stairs can't withstand a crowd of 'em," Philip said.

"So what? You think you can haul some bookshelves down the fire escape to make barricade number two?" the woman asked snidely.

There was an uncertain moment I watched the others glance amongst themselves as if seeing if anyone had any other ideas.

"There's a clerk's desk in the lobby," Michael thought aloud. "Maybe we could use it to temporarily block the door while we check the other floors."

"Work our way from the bottom up," Philip pondered aloud and I could see Todd had the same edge of anticipation before surveying an eye around the room. "Or we could split into groups? One works their way up from the bottom floor while the other works from the seventh to make sure the infected aren't pushed too far up."

"Avoid a pile up," Todd agreed and looked to the woman who was scrutinizing the guys' plans but hadn't made a protest for some time. "That sound a'ight with you?"

She eyed us up for a long moment and noticed her eyes catch on Penny who was peeking from around her father's legs she was clutching- and then to Michael, who was eying her back compassionately before she seemed to come to a conclusion and nodded slowly. "Can't be picky these days I suppose."

"Y-you can't- Tara we _just_-" The older woman calmed her panicking sister and hushed her back against her chest.

"It'll be fine," the elder sister confirmed. "We're checking on mom and dad, remember? I'll be fine."

The younger girl eventually nodded sadly, her constant flow of tears still streaking lines down her dirty cheeks and echoed her pleas for her to come back safe. She eventually got her sister back under control before she steered her away at arm's length. "Well, then who's going?"

"I'll go." I felt my heart swell at hearing our oldest member step forward first to help.

"Reckon I'll help too," Philip followed, looking over to his brother and friend who were looking questionable.

"I'll head out with you." Todd stepped up, giving my hand that had been clutched in his a quick squeeze before letting go to most likely avoid my gaping shock.

"Get your head out of your ass man- we're not military here- which might I remind is who we're supposed to be sitting tight for."

There was more upheaval that spewed from Nick while Brian still seemed conflicted, but after a few minutes after being taken to the side by Philip and hushed persuasions, they both reluctantly opted to come down to help since it seemed half of us were set on going. I couldn't believe how fast these plans accumulated and felt dread creep up to clutch at my stomach with a frigid fist at the turn we were heading from just contently drinking on the rooftop the other night. I hadn't realized until they were already agreeing that I had been counting on Todd and Philip to be talked down from such an outrageously dangerous plan- especially now when it seemed the infected were riled bad from the recent activity just outside.

"So we clear out the floors, make sure it's safe and meet up on the fourth floor." I found myself lost in my frantic thoughts until Philip's plan ringed alarmingly through my ears.

Snapping out of my shock, I couldn't contain myself from scrambling up to gasp, "Todd! You can't be serious-"

"Oh get over it!" the woman suddenly shouted over me. "They're distracted outside and we're wasting time with ya'll's bitching back and forth. You said you need supplies? I'm not twisting your arms here."

"I'll go too." We all swiveled our heads to the boy who had remained almost completely silent throughout the whole argument. He still seemed quite shaken from his ordeal from outside, but I saw him touch the older woman's arm for a brief moment as he met her eyes, then to her sister who seemed surprised. "We got this far. It uh, seems wrong, me not being there to find your folks."

There was a long look between the two and I could see the woman wasn't certain about risking the boys life or maybe felt uncomfortable with leaving her sister alone with strangers, but she eventually nodded tenderly to her much younger companions. I wondered what these people had been through together to share such tenderness between each other. But I was much to angry at the bitch for interrupting to care for too long.

"Before we head on out, I prefer not to be runnin' around calling 'hey you' after you all the whole time," Michael inquired, noting it wasn't a rejection like I had anticipated.

"Tara," the woman offered before nodding to the boy beside her. "This is Tim, and that's April."

The rest of us introduced themselves, Todd speaking on behalf for the both of us as I still eyed the dark-haired woman in fury. As they exchanged a few more precautious ideas before they headed out, Brian had to argue with Tara to put away her gun in exchange for one of Michael's golf clubs. She was allowed to take it down by reluctantly agreeing to only use her loaded weapon as a last resort if something should happen and resigned to take one of the putters to the other's insistence. Still seething after being silenced, it seemed Todd knew my mood all too well and was ignoring me standing right beside him looking on appalled at what he was about to do, for this stranger we didn't even know! Bouncing ideas off one another on how to block off the front doors, he was pointedly avoiding glancing back at me, probably reluctant to avoid my astounded glare. Furious and so terrified all at once, I stormed out from the living room to rush out the front door where I could compose myself alone, the mass of my fury becoming too overwhelming to console beside Todd. The roof had been abandoned in our hurry to greet the survivors so the bright sunlight was the only one to greet me when I hurried out from the dark, claustrophobic hall.

I found myself steadying against the rooftop rails. If I looked straight ahead, I could only see the bright, untainted summer sky with a few wisps of cotton-white clouds and the tops of skyscrapers against their baby blue background. The sky looked none-the-different from only a few months ago if you looked straight forward. But with the slightest bow of your head, you could see the city's population was a massacre amongst the streets that were unsettlingly quiet and bare of its usual bustle of running vehicles. There was only the traffic of the uncoordinated wandering of reanimated corpses, and they seemed to collect together in a pile up over those they devoured below. It sickened me to see how they clambered over one another to get their mouths on any part of flesh still left, the intestines and other organs already ripped out and disappeared amongst the crowd. I couldn't even make out the person they were tearing from anymore. Everyone who ventured into these streets vanished under the herd of dead. With all these deaths, there hasn't been a single funeral; there was either nothing left behind of someone to bury or would awake to sink their teeth into anyone to linger long enough for them to transform. I was acquaintanced with the dead's destruction first hand, but I had yet to see them _turn_ like I know Todd and Neema had. I wasn't sure if that was the reason I couldn't bridge the gap between accepting these people were lost. _If they still_ breathed _and their heart continued to_ beat, _how was it an infection could erase an entire existence?_ There had to be _someone_ still inside.

I watched in disgusted wonderment at these monster-like people still in their regular every day clothing they'd died in when I heard footsteps over the growling and wild snarls from below. I glanced over my shoulder to see Todd lingering by the propped open door and offered a small, lopsided grin; a sign he knew he was in trouble. Yet I felt the exasperation I'd stormed off with moments earlier had evaporated and I felt too worried to fight. I didn't smile back but wordlessly allowed him to join me and I could see him grimace at what I'd been looking at. He didn't speak so I started.

"I know this is something we'd have to face eventually," I sighed. "It's just...after everything...Neema's family is gone and I'm sure these girls' family are gone too- and I think you know it too."

Todd made to speak but I hushed him softly with the brush of my hand over his. "Sometimes I can't believe how _lucky_ we were to find each other, and I can't bear the thought of having you taken away after something like that."

I stared down at my shoes at feeling tears welling up in my eyes at the admission my dream revealed to me last night. I breathed, "You're all I have left, Todd. Please don't be reckless with your life."

Before I knew it, familiar arms that had comforted me last night wrapped around me with a different type of tenderness and I buried my tears into his shirt, closing my eyes at the feeling of his scratchy overgrown goatee resting against my forehead.

"I promise, this isn't about being reckless," he breathed into my bangs. "You're all I've got too. I'm looking out for what's gunna hold us together in the future."

"Even at the expense of risking yourself?"

He was quiet about that for a moment longer until he whispered softly in my ear.

"I don't think there are too many options these days without risks, baby."

[center]-[/center]

When the time came, I could no longer stay held in Todd's arms and eventually let him part to prepare himself. Neema was also staying behind and it seemed we were the only ones with weapons to defend Penny and the others if something should go wrong. I almost scoffed at this, feeling utterly useless; Neema even seemed more inclined to hold her little revolver at the ready than I did. The weight in my back pocket felt more like a burden than protection. Milton resigned to stay behind with us, as did April, who seemed much too shaken to head back out. So it was decided that Michael should go with Tara and Tim since he knew the apartment building's layout better than any of us, and even including Nick along to back up the three on the seventh level while Todd and the Blake brothers volunteered to go down to the second floor and make their way to the lobby in case they needed to brace the entrance. All of them equipped themselves with the same blunt weapons they'd used to clear the floor, Tara joining in while Tim already had his garden hoe he'd made it through Atlanta with. However, I couldn't help but notice Todd and Philip hadn't left their guns behind and prayed I wouldn't hear the sounds of gun fire.

So everyone who wasn't going hurried themselves to the roof to watch the other climb down the fire escape one by one to their designated floors. Most of the animated dead were distracted eating, but at the sight of more living flesh climbing down, some watched and grabbed longingly from the bottom of the fire escape, snarling in hunger at their descending approach. It was Philip who reached the building's second floor first and was the closest to the dead that were beginning to swarm. I breathed a deep sigh in relief when it seemed the older Blake brother was able to pull open the unlocked window without having to shatter it, most likely riling up those below even more. I watched Brian climb in after him with Todd right behind, the three men disappearing without a sound before Tara climbed down to the next floor down. Unfortunately, the woman hadn't been blessed with the same luck, making us all cringe up on the rooftop as she none-to-subtly smashed the window with her elbow she'd wrapped up in a rag Michael offered. Nick didn't seem pleased at being with the noisiest group but climbed in after Tara and Michael with only a few grumbles we could hear from two floors up. With more than half of our group out of sight, it was a long, grueling wait. It was all we could do but stare at the infected still distracted below. While some were none the wiser to what was going on in the building beside them, a few others seemed to distractedly trickle towards our building that was making a ruckus of the formerly silent street. I dreaded that the doors were broken and they were walking up on them downstairs without much barrier in-between.

It made my heart drop when all of a sudden, it seemed the intrigued infected were full on making desperate dashes across the street towards the front of the building, or as fast as their clumsy stumbles allowed, their groans turning to yowls as they crowded over each other.

"Damnit," I breathed, pacing the railing, scaling the roof railing to find an angle I could see the entrance from but with little luck. "Something must've happened to tip them off!"

"You think they blocked it in time?" the girl April asked quietly and looking on just as anxiously.

"It doesn't appear like they've been able to get through," Milton said examining over the rooftop himself. "But they're attention seems to have definitely been caught."

And it was true. More were dismissing April's torn apart companions to join the growing crowd that inclined to mindlessly claw for our building, clambering on top of each other to try to push forward. It seemed like ages we were waiting, watching the dead yowl and snarl down below until the point the sun was casting a much darker hue as it prepared to dip below the skyline.

_We were waiting_ too _long._

"Something's wrong." April whispered what I was thinking, "They've been too long...haven't they?"

The four of us could only stare speechlessly, considering we agreed but didn't know what to say. My god, what if Todd was being devoured just a few floors below? Catching Penny staring wide-eyed over the rails with us, looking just as horrified, I felt my stomach twist horribly at the thought of this little girl losing her father.

"We have to do something," I exclaimed, gulping back my shakes.

"Like what?" Neema's dark eyebrows jumped up towards her hairline.

"I don't know!" I raked my fingers anxiously. "But I can't just sit here not knowing. We've got Todd's other guns..."

"We 'vouldn't be helping by attracting more to'vards them," she returned evenly. "They've been quiet, we shouldn't lose patience 'vith them."

"That's what scares me," April whispered.

"But that was the plan," Milton urged. "I agree, we need to wait-"

"Michael's clubs," I remembered. "There's still a couple left."

"You can't be serious," Milton exclaimed.

"Well that's what the others have," I countered. "That was their plan right?"

"And what do you intend to do?" Neema inquired, a surprising sharpness directed in her words. "Really think about it? If ve come across one of those monsters, do you really think you can do that?"

I couldn't find the words, or the stomach to lie to Neema. Remembering how last time I embarrassingly froze when the time came to help Brian, I had been too scared to lift a hand to help the man about to get a chunk bit out of him right in front of me. I _couldn't_. At the thought of bashing apart someone's skull, like how Todd and Philip had, I knew I couldn't and Neema had a point. All I could do was duck my head down in shame at this realization.

However, loud shakes of metal interrupted our moment of silence, causing us all to run to the rooftop railing and peer over to see Michael sprinting up the fire escape, his footsteps loud as he pounded up the long stretch of ladder back up to us. Milton and Neema hurried to run back to his apartment to help the older man back in through the window while April seemed to hang back with me as we were hoping to see the others following. But to my dismay, no one else followed, not even Tim or Tara who were supposed to be together. Without a word, I turned to dash inside and ask what the hell had happened, April already on my tail but was startled when Michael came rushing through the hall before I could even reach the door. I noticed he had a fire extinguisher in one hand and a long, heavy looking hunting rifle in the other as he ran towards the roof's ledge without a word. Slinging the gun by its straps over his shoulder, with both hands, Michael chucked the fire extinguisher with a hard over-head throw as far as he could manage down the street from our building. Before I could ask what on earth he was doing, Michael drew the rifle back up, taking a moment to concentrate and align up his line of fire before a loud gunshot erupted that made us all jump. There was a small explosion down the street where Michael had shot the extinguisher and white fog steamed out, causing the metal container below to scramble around with a mind of its own, the nozzle flailing as it spun with the force of the fog spewing out of its new hole.

I caught on to what Michael was trying to do when a few of the dead began drifting over to investigate the sudden commotion so close by. I ripped my eyes away and rushed over to the man, grabbing his arm with more force than I had expected. "Michael, what happened? Where's everyone?"

Michael's translucent blue eyes looked troubled as he seemed to pause and search for the words to explain, particularly to me, but we were interrupted when more rattling came from below. I could practically feel the weight inside my chest relieve itself when I saw Todd climb out the fourth floor window with Brian right behind. My brows furrowed as I squinted to see what the two men had tucked under their arms, Todd had his bat and Brian with his crowbar, but I felt the railing I was gripping so tightly was electrical wire, my body bolted by the extraordinary shock at seeing both men brandish their guns and aim towards the few infected that hadn't left to investigate Michael's explosion. My mouth gaped and the pressure against my heart returned tenfold as Todd and Brian actually began to descent the fire escape rather than return back up like Michael. _No fucking way._ Realizing the two men were holding skateboards and shooting down to pick off the crowd, I felt myself shout furiously and whirled around slack jawed at Michael.

"They're providing a distraction Olive," Michael began, his arms raised like one would while trying to calm a panicking animal.

"What the _fuck_-"

"There's too many down there, they're gunna bring down the whole front if we can't get so many away," he exclaimed, looking over my head uneasily more like he was tell the others as well.

Too horrified to speak, I could only stare and watch Todd climb down with my heart pounding frantically in my chest while I faintly heard April pestering Michael about her sister. _Fucking dick_, I thought so appalled at this level of selfishness. We had _just_ had a discussion about risk! More gun fire caused me to jump in surprise that it hadn't come from the two men climbing down, noticing out of a few other windows, arms were outstretched and assisting the guys with taking out the dead. After assuring April that Tara was fine, Michael pulled the gun back up to his sight and took aim, joining the others in providing cover fire. My fingers clung around the railing so tightly my knuckles were white, but none of this phased me once Todd was at the bottom, with nowhere left but to jump down. He and Brian were quicker to pick off those close enough to reach up after them, clearing a small spot close enough and I felt the world around me stop as he jumped down. Three were quick to lunge for him and I screamed into my hand that flew up over my mouth. He shot one clean through the head that had been closest, almost on top of him as he was trying to brace himself back up from the fall and it fell abruptly in front of him before he quickly turned around just enough to bring his bat up. Too close to be able to swing, he used it more as a shield to push back the undead man snapping and clawing furiously at him. Brian was able to jump down the next moment and swung out at another that had been about to come up behind Todd, bashing its skull a second time after it fell to the floor to permanently keep him down before turning to impale a decayed woman clambering towards him. Todd was able to kick back the dead clawing for him, giving him enough space to rear up his bat, but a shot rang out and the attacking man dropped before Todd could get the chance. I silently thanked whoever had taken the shot as it gave Todd enough time to bat away another corpse running for him before he began to run down the path the shooters from upstairs were helping create. As he ran, I watched him crouch down before he dropped the skateboard out in front of him, rolling it out in front of him fast enough to jump on and begin kicking and pushing his feet to skate faster down the street. Brian followed right after and the two men were literally skateboarding up the street while shooting those in their path. _Crazy sons'a bitches._

I couldn't believe what I was seeing and wondered what planning and thought had gone into this plan to actually convince Brian to join along. Hadn't Philip been opposed to his brother pulling off such a stupid stunt? And what I really couldn't believe that it was actually working. Most of the crowd of dead was now feverently running after the men skating away, leaving fewer and fewer paying attention to our building as they trickled away. _When Todd gets back, I'm gunna fucking kill him_, I thought as I watched him disappear with Brian out of our view around a building taking the dead with them. _If he comes back_, a dreadful thought that brushed over my heart.

"The top floors were clear," I heard Michael say, attracting my attention to realize he'd been telling us about what happened. "Philip said the third floor was full of those infected though. Nick had a close call, but everyone's ok."

"But you guys found the apartment right?" April asked. "My parents, were they...?"

I blinked back tears at how crestfallen April seemed as Michael seemed to take too long for a positive answer and eventually shook his head sadly to the poor girl. The citrus-haired girl was sobbing into her hands and Neema was quick to lay an apologetic hand on her shoulder that April practically collapsed into, taking the Indian woman by surprise by turning to cry into her shoulder. The older woman took it in stride and offered her arms without complaint. We stood numbly for a moment, the only sound being April crying until I was startled by a small touch against my hand. Looking down, I was surprised to see it was Penny, not noticing when she had come beside me and my eyes dropped to my hand that I found she had grabbed. My heart ached as I realized she was staring off with tears in her eyes where her uncle had disappeared, reflexively reaching out to find my hand in subconscious need it seemed. Squeezing her hand, her eyes drifted up to find mine and I found myself stretching a small smile just for her. It felt painful but it was all I had the strength to offer.

"They'll be ok," I breathed, not sure how assuring I sounded when I felt just as fearful. But she seemed strong enough to hold out hope and nodded her head up at me.

Michael let April grieve for a while before he told us the others could use our help collecting stuff from downstairs and offered to take April to her sister. I felt extremely anxious, not wanting to peel my eyes away from searching for Todd to return, but Michael informed us they would probably be gone a while since they'd planned to hide well east of the city before chancing to take the streets back, so I joined the others to help distract my mind from all the possibilities of what could happen to Todd going so deep into the city. Everyone but Milton who stayed to keep watch climbed out through Michael's window and followed the older man down the fire escape to the already open window on the fourth floor. Even though Michael had informed us it had been cleared out, I still felt on edge as I slipped through the window and observed the strange apartment. Much the same as Michael's, cluttered with framed pictures and portraits but with navy blue walls, we walked through someone else's life, _someone dead_, and I avoided looking towards the stink of a corpse bleeding black blood across the carpet we had to walk around in the middle of the living room. In fact, it seemed there were a lot of bodies I had to ignore stepping around to get to the door with the others.

It was dark and frightening trying to move through the dark, much like our floor would look like if we didn't have the roof top door open. Michael seemed to know his way however and we followed him out into the dark hall. Someone must have lit a candle as we saw a source of light flickering from inside an open door down the hall. April bumped my shoulder and ran ahead of Michael as she ran inside the lit apartment and we hurried to follow after her. Rounding the door frame, April had stopped and cast a shadow over the rest of the room behind her. With only a soft gentle hue or orange light, everyone seemed to crowd around in the shadows of the candle's light. Penny ran past April to embrace her father who swept her up in his arms and held her close, breathing soft words into her ear as he stared back towards the center of the room. Peering around April, I saw two bodies lying with their skulls busted open much like the one we had walked past, a man and a woman lying sprawled next to each other and their faces so bloody and caved in they were unidentifiable. But it seemed April knew exactly who they were as tears dribbled down her already soaked cheeks. And so did her sister, who was lying beside the bodies and silently weeping with her body draped over the dead man's chest, her shoulders shaking as she balled the man's shirt in her fists. April's knees seemed to give out as she fell beside the bodies, her hands hovering disbelievingly over the corpses but seemed too lost to actually touch them as she began to lose herself in louder sobs.

The room watched the girls grieve over their parents and I retreated back into the dark hallway. Falling against the wall, I let myself slide down and curl into my knees. Shivering against the wall, I buried my face into my knees and willed the faces of my loved ones to refrain from replacing themselves on the dead lying all across the floor of the dark hallway.

_We were all truly alone in the land of dead. And it was by the hands of our gone loved ones that killed us inside the most._

My family was somewhere dead like Tara and April's._ I felt it._

* * *

_If I can just say I'M SORRY x1000! I really hope you'll forgive such a late update, but life has been crazy busy since I'm juggling two jobs at the moment, so I try to write when I can. So, I hope the length of this chapter might make up for being gone for two months. So a lot of this is also based off the book Road To Woodbury, considering Tara and April are in fact characters that resided in the apartment. Yes I did revise their story quite a lot, but I wanted them to still be in the Woodbury group and instigate their further venture through the apartment. And I also added Tim, who's actually just a character created from the tv show but I'd like to combine with book characters as well. I'm quite positive I'm going to edit this, but I just wanted to hurry and put it up for you all to read already. I'm going to try my best and get the next chapter up much faster than this one took. The lyrics are also from Mumford and Son's song Ghosts That We Know._

So next chapter, back to Olive's current timeline :D  
And Special Shout Outs to Airi for beta reading and Kickass Alice for making such a badass banner for CTF3  
You can view it on my profile

PLEASE, I cannot stress enough how important feedback is to me. Leave me somethingggg, I beg you!


	9. Chapter 9

"_And I'm ready to suffer and I'm ready to hope_

_It's a shot in the dark aimed right at my throat._

_'Cause looking for heaven found the devil in me_

_Well what the hell, I'm gonna let it happen to me."_

**Chapter Nine**

"_I said drop it!_"

The girl barked back vehemently from behind the man I recognized had stolen my bow by the waterfall weeks ago. It wasn't hard to pick up on her southern drawl and imagined I'd run into another native Georgian of these parts. She was young. Younger than I, with short-cropped, brunette hair tucked behind her ears and wide, bright eyes that glared at me underneath dark furrowed brows. I took notice to all this in the foreground of the gun she threatened me with. My gaze flickered from between the girl to the much older man who practically shoved his way forward from the doorway. Besides our last run in, I'd never really seen a crossbow in person and I'd only ever read about a crossbow's origin while studying the Mongolian Empire briefly, I recalled it was a weapon nomadic tribes of northeast Asia most notably used to overthrow empires of Central Asia and China in their invasions. If I wasn't in such a predicament, I would probably snort at the ridiculousness of the weapon in my studies in the hands of some hick wearing a bright, Tijuana-style poncho that looked almost obnoxiously large on his frame, the stock loaded and raised out from under the thick wool blanket over his shoulders. His jaw was set firm and I could visibly see him grinding his teeth while his eyes seemed to flash around the room.

I could hear how rasped and petrified my breath had turned at being cornered and outnumbered. _There was no running this time. _My hands shook something terribly when I refused to lay down my only chance.

"Lady you bes' put it down if ya don't wan' an arrow between yer eyes," he hissed quietly. His voice was much more coarse than the younger girl's southern twang. More rough, like the dirt that crackled under the roll of heavy tires on a graveled back road of Georgia. I found myself traveling more often down those trails these days.

"Who else ya' with?"

My eyes narrowed and I recalled my attacker from earlier. _You with them?_

"'Ey!" His voice was best described a growl as he sharply startled my attention when I hesitated in silence. "I asked ya' a question. Who ya' _with_?"

While glaring down at me, I watched his eyes flash around in a complete scan of the room and it dawned on me he believed I couldn't be here alone. I had no idea what response I should give, so I could only think to remain stoically silent in the face of these intruder's questioning.

In frustration, he advanced so abruptly I involuntarily flinched and recoiled back as he shoved the stirrup of his crossbow with an already nocked bolt threatening down at my face. "Ya bes' spit out if ya' got buddies 'round we outta know 'bout."

My back remained flattened against the mirror and I could hear tiny cracks crawl up the bloodied reflexion behind me. My body threatened to wither in on itself under the weight of my predicament; I tried to breathe through the ache I felt pulse throughout my whole arm and down into my fingertips, but every bone-rattling breath pulled despairingly at my shoulder while I tried to keep the rifle perched on my knees. Remembering the source of my injury, I decided to approach this in a different course than my last escape. I had no idea what kind of man this was, an judging by my last experience, I didn't expect just because I was a woman he wouldn't lay his hands on me. Or more precisely, put an arrow through me.

"Yeah," I croaked, trying to sit up a little straighter. "I've been gone awhile. They'll be looking for me."

The man tilted his head back for only the briefest of moments to exchange a synchronized look between him and the girl before his eyes quickly flicked back. His aim still never left my head. I tried keeping my body from sliding back down the mirror that had become splattered with my own blood, and stretched a leg that wasn't supporting the barrel of my gun out in front of me to help scootch back since my arms were already shaking much too weakly. But that was also when I saw him beginning to take the time to access the mess of the room. I choked back a hollow gasp from behind my lips when his eyes grazed over the rifle, then down to my abdomen. The double-take was so fast, I would have missed the glimpse of azurite widen under his down-turned brows that slowly furrowed as I watched him comprehend what they'd walked in on. I jerked my leg back up in panic, but not before I saw the girl take notice to where his gaze fixed so intently.

"We ain't gunna tell you again," the girl warned a bit more darkly. "Put your gun down."

The room waited on each others moves with a thick tension. The convulsing organ thumping against my ribcage shivered as I could practically read his eyes traveling from the floor where my boot had stretched out, then to the bullet shells I'd kicked. His eyes followed the two halves of the bullet I'd pried apart earlier and had rolled across the wood floor to skitter by the discarded lighter and first-aid kit I'd completely forgotten about after I cauterized my shoulder. Then to my dismay, I saw the two strangers from the doorway halt over my horridly burnt and bloody shoulder. I could only imagine what a sight I must be with almost half my shirt sliced open in blood-soaked tatters from where I'd torn it earlier from my collar all the way down my sleeve and had yet to see what my wound now looked after it's incineration.

"No." I swallowed and inhaled a quiet, shallow breath to try and tame the pounding rhythm of trepidation that threatened to burst from my esophagus and roared through my ear drums. "You see I can't."

I could feel my eyes still watering from the raw ache of my burnt flesh and see the very visible shake from the barrel of my gun that I refused to lower. My voice had probably only barely been above a whisper, a plea, and it seemed to startle the girl as her wide bright eyes gave away her initial shock before she remembered herself to steer her expression back.

I wasn't an idiot and I wasn't foolhardy; I was painstakingly aware I was outgunned and outnumbered, half-bled out and freshly awake from unconsciousness. Especially after what transpired just earlier today, I wasn't naive to the evils and cruelty the living could bring with them. I couldn't afford to trust these people and surrender, leaving myself bare. I'd learned you could never really know what a human's humanity is capable of, courage or of corruption. Even the people you love the most are the furthest from who you thought you knew. To be completely and totally honest, I had once loved Philip. And I had once loved Merle. Todd hadn't been the only man in my life at the end of the world. Yet no matter how much I had thought I'd known men throughout this epidemic that bonded us all. But blood stained Woodbury's snow in December until no man's hands were clean anymore. And I had been too disgusted by everyone's dirty hands, with my own boyfriend's blood, to bear living beside the man who's corruption was the most revolting. Now Todd was dead, and the Governor and Merle are murderers; there was no chance I would relinquish myself under anyone.

My legs huddled against me, the only barrier other than my gun I could offer between these strangers' shot and the light I'd been trying so inexperiancely to keep burning in this world. Swallowing back a fear that threatened to overwhelm me, I steeled my resolve to try to sit up straighter and forced my hands to hold the rifle still. The girl's gun seemed to waver in her hands as she almost gaped down at me with an almost disbelieving stare. She didn't completely take her aim off me as they both stared incredulously; like the way I must have looked when I'd come across the heavily pregnant woman in the woods.

The two shared another look and I felt my shoulder twitch under their none-to-subtle cautious scrutiny of my wound from the doorway.

"Were you bit?" the girl asked carefully from behind her friend's shoulder, her aggression diffused and voice taking a much quieter, _almost_ permissive tone. I felt my heart hardening, loathing if it was pity this stranger was feeling. I was pathetic; a pitiful, bloody sight. And I saw the look in their eyes that only confirmed my fears. I almost wanted to look down and see what they must be seeing, but I felt my head frozen in place, only able to creak my neck enough to shake my head, but my eyes never wandered far from the man's bolt tip, or the girl's gun barrel.

"Jumped," I rasped. "Some douche came at me."

I tried my hand at a semblance of truth. "It wouldn't stop bleeding," I breathed. "Had to do something..."

Their stares reminded me of how I had ever met Merle; I had been so dismayed, like one was aghast when the madness that becomes of an animal is revealed after it's chewed off its own limb to escape a snare. Back then, I hadn't understood such logic and now shied away from the girl's thunderstruck stare in particular, wondering if they thought me deranged. I especially avoided meeting eyes with the man who's stare I saw taking in the mess across the room floor.

It felt like the ball was waiting to be dropped between the three of us after a long moment of silence. I knew how this young woman felt, but I felt on the precipice watching the man blink slowly and observe the room without much of a readable reaction behind the unkept mop of hair of his that looked neglected of a proper trim.

"Listen," the girl interjected. "We'll lower ours if you lower yours."

"Like hell."

The man was the first to huff an objection and she shot him a look that he shook his head towards. Despite his disapproval, slowly turned her aim up to relatively relieve the tension of gun-point, raising her other hand in a gesture of good faith. Relenting to be the first to compromise, she gave her gruff tempered companion a reproachful stare. This didn't seem to put him at any more ease as he just glared right back, holding her gaze for a moment before he scoffed and glared back down.

"Well?" he spat, lashing his reluctance at me and glared expectant.

I battled within myself, every sensible instinct screaming at me that this could be a deadly mistake. Searching this girl, I tried recognizing any subtle hint that she was being deceitful, but was met with a surprising reflection of my own anxiety. At a snail's pace, I lowered my rifle, my eyes rapidly darted back and forth between the two watching intently for any sign of rebuttal. Lowering the barrel half ways, my eyes locked with the crossbow-wielder and fixed him with a long, hard stare I refused to back down from, demanding he lower his weapon before I moved another inch. If his eyes could possibly narrow anymore at me, he eyes would practically be closed as his teeth continued to gnaw behind a tense, clenched mouth.

He billowed scathingly under his breath before dropping his arm. Without his weapon raised up at his sight, his body looked all the more ready to spring like a startled feline if a wrong movement should occur. It pulled at my panicked heart, but I finally layed the rifle down beside me and forced my fingers to untangle themselves from the trigger. I still kept my hand beside it in quick reach, my pinkie touching the trigger. With my other stained dark, copper hand from dried blood, I shakily raised it in a weak attempt. My chest heaved as I tried breathing past the whimpers that threatened to escape me when I tried to straighten back up.

There was a heavy, uncomfortable silence again before the man whirled around out the doorway, without another word behind him, clearly pissed, but the the girl just stared back and trusted her partner to check their safety while we could hear the faintest of footsteps echoing through the hall against the wood floors. I suspected he was doing a sweep of the daycare, obviously very skeptical about me being here alone. Doors were being opened and footsteps paced further down the hall, leaving just an even stare down between my gun and hers. If he looked outside, all he would find would be the hot-wired Dodge I'd bled all over on the way here.

Even though I knew his search would come up empty, I still felt on edge about his return. Never taking my gaze off the girl left in the room, I felt myself subconsciously sizing her up. She was a pretty thing, quite a cute southern belle, all tall and bright-eyed. Her long pant-legs were laced up in knee-high boots, heavy looking and noticeably worn. I watched her swallow heavily as we continued to watch each other and took in how exhausted-like she looked. She held my gaze firmly, waiting to hear the slightest noise from down the hall from her partner to indicate if she needed to raise her weapon back up. But I noted her aggression wasn't as volumed after my leg slipped. I considered she might regard me with more sympathy for my situation than the man who I'd already had a rough encounter with. I recalled their whispers I'd heard before they barged in on me.

"Formula?" I inquired quietly. She seemed startled at my voice and I supposed her confusion kept her response delayed.

"The pregnant woman in your group," I clarified. "She have her baby?"

Remembering very well how far along she'd seemed the day I'd ran into the prick near the waterfall, I felt especially curious to hear what had become of her. An intuition of dread daunted my heart and I wondered if I really wanted to know why they were scavenging for baby formula. Her brows furrowed, disturbed by my observation.

"This that lady who came up on Lori off the 65." The guy crept back into the room, throwing me a disdainful glare before lowering his crossbow back down when he strode back in, having kept our conversation in earshot while checking the house over.

"Kick some other guy's nuts in for that?" he snorted, nodding his head down at my wound

My eyes narrowed into their own slits and I couldn't help but snap back incredulously "_You _came up on _me_."

I returned my focus to the girl for an answer, wanting to avoid saying what I'd been wishing to do to the bastard who took my bow for weeks. She hesitated apprehensively, studying me in her bright hazel-gaze before flickering back down to what I'd curled my knees in front of. Chewing her lip for a moment, she shook her head. Swallowing a sudden knot in my throat, I could only nod back and didn't need her to explain.

Combined with the persistent pounding in my shoulder and an unexpected weight from the news about this woman I only met for a moment overwhelmed me. I felt winded, the breath in my lungs wrenched from me.

"I'm sorry."

It was quiet, weak-sounding, but sincere. I couldn't be any sorrier. Like hearing about an abandoned kitten, I felt myself grimace and felt it's fragility wouldn't last when comprehending there was a newborn somewhere in this world without it's mother.

Their odds were stacked quite impossibly against them. And mine felt to have plummeted.

I couldn't think about leaving behind such a helpless life in this world. Sighing, I couldn't help but feel _my_ own condolences for their lost member. I'd be lying if a secret part of me wasn't astounded at this group's actual attempt to support such a _new _addition.

"You're... you're all planning to raise it?" I gawked, not sure if I was so speechless from shock or such an amount of blood loss.

"Well can't exactly 'spect her to fend for herself now can we?" the man snarked and I felt myself bristling again under his harsh attitude.

"Could've fooled me," I snipped back coldly. "Wouldn't put it past someone who steals and puts their hands on a woman."

The man's expression looked like he'd could've been sucker-punched, but only for a second before the next moment his face twisted in a cold fury. "Listen lady, I didn't raise my hand at ya' for that cheap shit'a yours now did I? And I ain't stole nothin' a yours you didn't leave behind."

"Whatever. What Mexican you steal that off of?" My back was slipping down the mirror again and I silently groaned and hissed while trying to support weight off my arm. My mood was already in turmoil and my body pulsating in pain, and this unpleasant, begrudging backwater redneck didn't seem to have as big of a heart as his partner to lay off. I wished for nothing more but to curl up and tend to my shoulder in solitude, but now for a second time I had to ward off a crossbow in my face.

Instead of allowing a no doubt colorful retort from her friend, the girl stepped closer to interrupt. "This group of yours, they be able to tend to that shoulder of yours?"

I had to pause and deliberate what would be best to say before I played along. "I was an EMT before all this. I'll manage til they find me."

"Yer group always send out their pregnant women alone?" the man interjected condescendingly beside the kinder of the two.

The way they looked at me, I shouldn't have been so startled and gaped to hear it said aloud so outright. It was all I could do to restrain myself from curling my legs up further to myself and continue to yield anymore words as it felt my mind threatened to spin off it's axis in ways I could get out of this one.

It was strange that more people knew my condition today than over the whole span of four months. The man who had slashed open my shoulder had been the first person I'd ever told, let alone said to aloud. Now it seemed I hadn't needed to speak in order to reveal the responsibility I carried; the evidence of my still small, but the pronounced bump seemed crept under the stretched shirt enough. In another life that was only a year ago, yet felt like a lifetime ago, I could have smiled, maybe beamed. In the life I had taken for granted, I could have assured without caution; yet back then, I had felt almost as fearful as I do now. How I wished now I could have shared our news with Todd, who had desired the family I had so adamantly been against.

Now here I was, pregnant anyways and alone. I had to beware what I revealed and wished now more than ever I could crawl under Todd's oversized jacket.

"Look," I groaned. "I know I'm not in the position to make you people leave. But how bout we bargain?"

I tentatively reached over the the bag beside me, my eyes darting back to the two that tensed but paused and assured them in good faith as I urged them to let me continue.

The man exclaimed and stepped forward to leer his quarrel at the ready. I hurried to flick out the canister I had previously stuffed in my bag, letting the aluminum fall to the floor in a dull thud and caused the other two to jump. I caught the can under one of my boots as I stared down the bolt-tip that had made it's way across the room in the next moment, stilling me for another moment to breathe past fear and pain in the face of his arrow. I found myself staring up into dark, cobalt eyes just beyond his crossbow's draw as I prayed he'd refrain from shooting and just take what I was willing to offer.

I raised my boot and softly nudged the can to roll across the wood floor, quietly pattering until it bumped against the girl's feet. She eyed it with incredulous uncertainty, recognizing my bargaining token and bent down cautiously to pick up the can to examine.

"Take it."

I could see the man's own gaze flick back to look over the can of powdered baby formula, an eyebrow creeping up when he glanced back. But his gaze quickly refocused warningly as I reached to rummage and toss out two more cans before I returned my hand hastily back in the air against my chest, not finding the strength to hold it up past my shoulders, even the uninjured one.

I licked my dry lips hesitantly. "I'll give you a cut of what was here." _You need it more than I do. _"Just leave me be."

I felt like I was pleading for any mercy I thought he and the other men that had been with him had shown that day they spared me to the rapids. His eyes searched mine, probing like I had done trying seek out his friend's intentions. I found they familiarly reminded me of dark shards of lapis stone, hard like the brassy, metallic pyrite, but mottled with an intense blue. I held his gaze like I had the day we first stumbled across each other in the woods, before I had flung myself to the water.

I understood his foreboding; desperation was awful dangerous and could cleverly disguise deceit.

"We could do that." The girl looked ambivalent when her partner shot her a leery, disinclined look at her agreement. But if he opposed too strongly with this exchange, he held his tongue and let his friend do the talking and listened skeptically instead. I rolled the other two over, my movements slow to keep from provoking any brash confrontations but partially because of the ache radiating from what almost felt like the whole right side of my body rather than just the shoulder. The girl collected them off the floor and hurried to sling the bag from over her shoulders, wasting little time unzipping the bag and stuffing in the canisters. A part of me felt defeated to see them secured and hauled back over her shoulders but reminded myself it wasn't for them but a motherless infant somewhere.

A token of condolence to the woman I would never meet again.

"I can take a look at that arm." My brows furrowed and faintly heard the mirror behind my back crack a fraction more. "You look like you've been bleedin' a long while."

"I said I got it." I instinctively felt myself recoiling, immediately scared of what more these people might want.

"You can barely keep yourself up," she outed. "I can help bandage you up 'til your people come for you."

She was right. It would be agony trying to bandage it by myself, but was another trial I had been anticipating to endure alone. I could barely stay conscious trying to ward away intruders let alone going through more treatment to my shoulder. However it had to be done, and soon or else I risked an even greater danger of infection.

"We ain't got time for this." At last his grumble chimed in at this extra extension, his sigh heavy and reluctant.

"It won't take long," she persuaded, looking back at me expectantly. "We'll make time if we hurry."

"I don't need anyone's charity."

I grew cold at how pathetic that sounded. All these months of finding my own dependent strength, it felt defeating how low and helpless I was brought back to.

"Ya' hear what she said?" I blinked up at the man's embittered growl after he huffed his exasperation. "Ain't got time for'a discussion, take it or leave it."

I bridled my misconceptions and let myself relent, slowly nodding a small reluctance.

"There's some bandages in my bag," I murmured.

Sliding her gun in her belt, she approached slow as if cautious not to startle a wild animal, her boots wearing steady thuds across the floorboards. I kept the guy in my peripheral as he side-stepped towards the room's window to glance through the curtains, still trying to maintain a watch over the activity happening outside. Despite their apparent need to hurry, she took her time easing down beside me, eying my blood she had to step on before she reached for the thrown first aid kit I'd used earlier but shook my head.

"I used all those ones. The others are in my bag."

She opened the bag and I held my breath at seeing her pause when she saw all the bottles and baby clothes I'd stuffed inside. However, she came around and didn't miss another beat as she began to rift through the bag to find the spare roll of gauze I carried with me. When she finally pulled loose the roll from the bottom of the bag, I reached up to softly still her arm when I saw her reach for the still-open bottle of peroxide.

"I already did that before." I gulped, looking down and finding it hard to say before what. "The best to do for now is just wrap it loosely."

Nodding, she took another moment to examine my charred shoulder, seeing how best to approach this I figured. When the brunette brought her fingers up, I forced myself not to flinch back, but couldn't suppress a breathless hiss when she gingerly began to peel back the flaps of fabric I'd torn open, hurting terribly at the pull of dried blood crusted under a few parts of fabric. I saw her own expression wince and she flashed me an apologetic grimace as she tried to hurry for my tolerance sake. I had succeeded searing closed any bleeding blood vessels, that was for certain; parts of my flesh were charcoal-colored and the blister that had become of my laceration was ashen and an angry fuchsia. Just looking at it sent my head reeling and my stomach curling.

While grinding my teeth, I rested my head back against the mirror and tried to take a soothing, shuddering breathe against the jack-hammering of my heart. My gaze flickered back behind the girl's shoulder and caught the man's attention on my wound now rather than the window. I felt myself shy away from the stares I anticipated to judge me. _How could you do this?_ But when we held gazes for another moment, I was tentatively surprised to find his stone-like eyes weren't as harsh. His bow was still ever-poised at the ready, prepared to aim but his hackles visibly eased and his constant, fidget-like strides almost slowed as he waited for his partner.

"You burn it yerself?" I could only stare and try to bat back watering eyes while she pulled the tatters of my sleeve completely from my shoulder to fall down across my chest. I needed a moment but eventually was able to comprehend what he seemed to ask, more in the form of a statement.

I affirmed his studious stare with a small nod while I tried not to fidget, but even the slightest touch seared at my tender flesh so it was hard to stay still as his friend slowly grasped below my elbow to raise it up so she could aid me to lean forward. I felt hesitant to unglue my back from the mirror, but was in too much pain to protest past a small groan as it took all my energy to lean forward and allow the tattered sleeve of my shirt to fall down my back. I could hear my breathing was ragged and short-winded trying to bear past my discomfort, so I tried to control myself and take deep breaths, refusing to allow myself slouch into her arms and keep some degree of dignity in front of these strangers

"I'd' have- I would've bled out," I winced. My head felt a little unscrewed and lulled on my neck as I endured this girl's amateur bandage, a heavy sweat beginning to bead above my feverish brow. The trembling of my limbs intensified against the strain of holding myself up and was frightened to consider these might be signs of shock threatening my consciousness.

"You don't have to explain that to us," the girl said from beside me, bringing me back to the room.

I turned to the girl with my blood now staining her fingers, she looked back at me with a sad, forlorn look that told me she understood desperation. Unable to stand her sympathy, I glanced back up into the indigo-stare boring down at me still. But he just nodded as well and lowered his eyes down for a moment before shifting back up to peer through the slits of the room window's curtain to recheck the outside. Neither seemed too phased by the hideousness of what I had done.

I couldn't grasp what about their approval meant to me. I was grateful I didn't appear as mad as I thought I was to other conscious living-beings.

"This blood," the girl started, keeping her eyes on wrapping the roll of gauze around my shoulder but I caught her gaze look down at the crimson still wet and smeared across the wood floor under us. She seemed unsure how to continue and met my eyes to pause. "Is this...just your shoulder?"

It was another topic I felt too afraid to speak about out loud. I shifted awfully uncomfortable in my puddle of blood and took a moment to look down, assuring myself I hadn't felt anything that could hint to a miscarriage and there wasn't anymore blood than what I'd spilled before passing out. It was just from my shoulder, that's all this was from. _That's all._

"I-I've never felt it move," I blurted and cringed at hearing myself say _it._ "But I haven't felt anything like contractions..." Just saying something like _contractions _this early, _already, _made me about to heave.

I was well aware it could take days after a miscarriage to pass a fetus far along as mine. "It's just my shoulder."

She only nodded back again, her own thoughts withdrawing again while her slender fingers continued to roll the gauze over my crisped lesion and eyes far-away in deep thought. They must love each other, I thought when considering these people were stepping in for this infant for her lost mother. _Her._ Another little girl for the world to scorn. And here I was, another knocked up woman thrust in their laps.

Now that was a horrible thought.

There were ways I would've wrapped my arm differently, but she seemed to get the jist and was efficient enough in wrapping up my shoulder.

"What's your name?" she asked between another wince of mine.

I'd broken so many rules today, a lot of my personal, private life revealed to strangers that had already demonstrated they were dangerous. I still wasn't even positive these people weren't from Woodbury; the Governor could have taken in new strays and it was all I needed them to go back reporting about an Olive injured in Griffin. But this was pretty far past their their range, well past the red zone and it would surprise me to discover they had branched this far out.

This was another stand-off of trust and she seemed to recognize it. "I'm Maggie," she offered.

"Ain't gotta get chummy with each other now." The girl, Maggie's partner grumbled from pacing back to the doorway. "Said her group's comin' for 'er and ours is waitin'."

I had to admit, I concurred and was thankful for the interruption.

Looking back at the impatient man, she frowned but didn't protest as she finished up and ripped the gauze from the roll and tied her bandage off. Examining her quick work, she eased me back against the mirror and I literally expelled an exhausted exhale of relief. I rested my head back as it seemed the pain absorbed in a collective pulse throughout my body and I had to force myself to keep blinking my eyes awake.

"You think you'll be alright 'til your group comes lookin'?" she asked and placed the roll of gauze back in my bag. I stared at that for a moment before I remembered she asked me a question.

"Yeah." _My group was looking for me alright,_ I thought a bit sarcastically, my sad lies turning my mood cynical. "I'll be fine."

And with that, she stood back up unceremoniously, brushing my blood off on her hands onto a rag tied around her belt and shouldered back on her bag. The man who hadn't offered any introduction was already on the balls of his feet and ready to leave, checking the hallway ahead of Maggie before he gave the go ahead. They were about to pick up and leave, just like that. I had at least expected her to request more cans of formula and was choked that she hadn't even brought up the numerous bottles she'd seen in my bag. I'd kept waiting for that window when strangers turned shady that when I found them about to leave without so much as a barter I was startled.

"Hey Maggie." I couldn't help but stop her before she left. I'd probably never see this woman like many others that had passed through my life, but a flicker of something apart of me couldn't let her leave that way.

She turned and her companion paused with his stride already out the door to look back at what I had to say. I reached in my bag, grabbing the disposable baby bottles and tossed them on the floor to brandish before sliding them across to them. Maggie looked down in confusion and looked up to see my hand outstretched offering up a few of the baby clothes I'd come up on in the daycare. I didn't want to stain the pastel pink already. The two observed me wordlessly for a moment, but she bent down and retrieved the bottles, taking a couple steps back to reach out and take the clothes. Before she pulled the clothes from my grasp, we met eyes again and I saw she was just as tentative about this exchange that appeared just as foreign to her.

"Keep her safe," I whispered, unable to talk any louder as my throat threatened to choke. I released the clothes to her and retreated my hand back.

The girl glanced down at the onesies, fingering the soft material of tiny beanie before returning my gesture with a meaningful nod and hurried to add it to her bag. I looked over at the man to read his reaction and his impatience seemed momentarily stilled at my words.

Situating herself to leave back to her group that was waiting for her, her gem-like eyes reflecting a garnet hue that shared a world of meaning with me.

"You too," she said before following her friend out into the hall.

I was breathless and watched the two leave with nothing else to say.

The retreating of the footsteps pattered down the hall and a door quietly creaking shut to leave silence behind it. My body's consciousness seemed to finally buckle under all it could take as I felt myself fading back out now that I was alone. I could feel my lashes twitching rapidly to try and stay awake at the sound of a loud mechanically roar coming somewhere outside, but my lids shut much to heavily and I found myself pulled back under another wave of darkness.

_ I would just like to personally say: WOW. I was so shocked to see the responses for last chapter and was just completely inspired by you readers :]_

_ Thank you DaRk-SnOw-FlOwEr24,TheBookWorm,dixonsbolts3, dixonlover, ilovedaryl, lilyloveflower, the best, and every Guest who left a review. I honestly was hesitant to keep continuing since I wasn't sure how many people were even still reading this or interested, so your feedback was super fucking special. I know I made you poor people wait forever so I hope you enjoyed the Prison group encounter haha, about time right? I won't make you all wait so long between their next encounter hahah._

_ I also saw the new trailer for Season 4 and holy fucking shit! I'm soooo stoked to see where they go with the season and that spiked my inspiration levels quite a bit also. I somewhat planned out an ending for this already, but seeing what's in store for Season 4 makes me kind of itch to continue this on into the next season as well. But I've seen other stories attempt that during that last season and try to keep up chapters during season 3 and I find it sometimes ruins plots. But I don't know, any thoughts? That's still won't be till laterrr later in this story anyways. _

_ Thanks again and hope to hear your reviews! Seeing how much people want faster updates, I'll do my best to hurry!_

_ The song inspiring this song by the way is Shake It Out by Florentine + The Machine._

_xoxo_


	10. Chapter 10

"_Don't wanna live in fear and loathing_

_I wanna feel like I am floating, instead of constantly exploding, in fear and loathing."_

Chapter Ten

It was quite a bright afternoon under a cloud forsaken sky, a pleasant change from winter's fading chill that could still lingered in the early hours of mornings and late at night from the forests. I blinked slowly and squinted my eyes against the sun baking down, peeking over the top of the building I was standing before to cast a rather dark, omniscient shadow over the concrete sidewalk around me. The glass building was perfectly intact, in such a better condition than I think I ever saw it, I hardly recognized the _Torrey Pines Apartments_; the front doors weren't broken and a million little shards weren't shattered and glittering across Seventh St. My feet took their own steps towards the building, my hands nervously reached out and experimentally pressed against the glass doors. My fingertips flinched under the cool touch of glass, remembereing all too well these doors had been shattered once before, but despite my foreboding I pushed them open to take in the inside lobby. Blood didn't stain the walls like I'd last remembered, papers from the lobby weren't scattered, and furniture wasn't tossed in an upheaval. I walked in what felt like a out-of-body daze, my fingers trailing over the lobby's front desk, freshly painted white, unscratched and unscathed; something that should have been propped up against the should-be smashed glass doors. The elevator that I'd known to always be shut and useless dinged open and I looked up in awe to see the floor's elevator shaft's light up above the doors. Glancing around, I felt perturbed about how deserted it all was, unquestionably creeped out about who could be using the lift from the floors above. Stepping inside on beige floor tiles, I turned around to apprehensively scan the numbered buttons, but my hand froze when the doors made their own decision and the light of the eighth floor illuminated overhead. Bracing a hand against the side-railings as it pitched up, I wobbled as I felt the elevator begin its assent to the top floor. As I watched the floors above the door rise, my hand hastily grab at my side, but found myself patting an empty belt.

When the eighth floor dinged open, I breathed a deep, steadying breath to brave peeking my head out and look down the hall. Inspecting the stairway, I bit my lip at the lit lamps actually working and the _bare_ hallway; the stack of bookshelves, desks, and tables were no longer piled on top of each other blocking off the stairway. After all this time, those seven other floors still intimidated me. Glancing down the rows of apartments, there was one door propped open. My heart leaped in my throat at the familiar apartment number. H7 beckoned me. I hadn't been down this hall in what felt like a whole other lifetime ago, a distinct time ago, when we were all different people before the world changed the nine of us that had once survived here.

But my steps followed me through the door just the same.

Michael Coleman's apartment looked like it had the very first day we'd climbed in through the fire escape. Before all the furniture was pushed back against the walls to create more space for eight more people. The coffee table was still centered, framed portraits all aligned decoratively on its unscratched mohagany table top. Various side tables were still neatly beside the couch and Michael's reclining chair, ceramic figurines and vases back in the places Betty Coleman had last placed them. I treaded towards the closest window with wobbling steps. I reached out to brush my fingers over the plants on the windowsill, still alive and in the sun, not having died long after I remember them withering into nothing but crackling dust when it stopped being watered. I blinked my lashes against the intruding breeze, looking up to see the window was left open about an inch or so, causing the pushed back curtains to flutter against me. The sunshine beamed in just like I remembered it did, at the beginning of all ends in this little apartment.

Still unnerved I'd been unable to find a single occupant, especially any dead, I followed down the hall until I came to the bedroom furthest down. Twisting the knob numbly beneath my hand, I pushed open the door weakly and exhaled a shallow breath at finding the room unoccupied as well. Michael's room looked the same as I always remembered it, full of photographs and memories. Walking meekly to sit down on the bed, I reached over to brush my fingers fondly over the frame of Michael and Betty's wedding photo resting on his bedside table, beside the working bedside lamp and alarm clock that I noted was still ticking. The corners of my mouth curved up at how lovely I had always thought this picture was since Michael showed me; it was very simple, black and white, the two hadn't posed as an eighteen-year-old Michael had his arms thrown around a young girl in a simple white dress. The two weren't looking at the camera taking their picture, but at each other as the newly Mrs. Coleman smiled under her husbands lips against her cheek.

"Find what you're looking for?"

My body whirled around and started at the figure lingering in the doorway. Standing like the man I remember before his health began to deteriorate, I hadn't even heard him come in as he smiled over at me from the hallway. My jaw slacked and my eyes involuntarily watered, once I found my footing I practically lunged to my feet. But still felt too shell-shocked to approach yet.

"Michael." I tearfully choked. My hand crawled up to message numbly over my chest in an attempt to steady the erratic thumping against my breast plate.

"What are you doing here Olive?"

I forgot how much I missed this man who had been through it all but was who I had still tried to shield from the truth of what had become of us towards the decline of his condition. Unable to articulate a response, I realized I couldn't explain why I was here. However, he was patient with me as he stepped further into the room and made to sit down beside me on his bed, still smiling encouraging back at me.

"Oh, Michael." I whispered. "I'm so sorry. The way I _left_ you..."

But there was no offense to be found behind the twinkle of his blue cataracts that hadn't quite fogged yet. His wrinkled, translucent-like hands reached to rest over mine that had been ringing in my lap, stilling me with a smile I recalled so fondly, before it dimmed.

"It's _okay_."

"I didn't even tell you goodbye." I stuttered anyways. "I wanted to be there for you, when you..."

I was unable to bring myself the finish that sentence, but Michael didn't seem to need me to. He only nodded his understanding. It slowly began to register with me, that if Michael had died yet, was I dead too? Was I meant to return to the start of all this and meet Michael at the end?

"You shouldn't be here Olive," he said, his hand still over mine and his eyes sad. I felt lost and with my next blink, moisture splashed down my cheek uncontrollably.

My lips trembled as a hallow, misplaced laugh escaped me. "I don't know where I should be anymore Michael."

His hand squeezed mine softly, his rough hands comfortingly assuring me. "Just not here," he said. "You can't stay like this anymore."

There were so many things to say but I felt at a loss as my head raced far too fast to grasp at anything to say for too long. Instead, I turned my head down to brush away the straying tears, but when I glanced back at the frame on the bedside table, I was startled to see it was no longer Michael's wedding photo, but the prom picture of Max and Rhian Somerset their senior year- back before they married and my mom still had her maiden name. I was deeply disturbed, not having seen this picture for years and was back in California, I looked back up to tell Michael so, but found the walls were no longer painted coral but light-green. Looking around, I recognized how the room had become my dad's room, the way I remembered it; a desk similarly next to the bed but was much less cluttered by memorabilia as he didn't share his bedroom with another. My eyes stopped on my fathers work boots, tossed in the usual spot beside the door where he kicked them off after he came home.

"Olive?"

I turned back to Michael who was staring with a concerned expression indenting his brow and I hadn't heard if he'd asked me a question. "Did you hear me?"

"No," I replied slowly, my eyes not able to help but drift to the familiar maps of the Persian Gulf hanging on the wall across the room. "No, sorry Michael..."

"I was saying about your reason," he tried again. I felt even more thrown. "For _leaving._ You remember it don't you?"

My brows furrowed; of course I remembered why I left.

"Before that," Michael interrupted, like he knew I was stewing on all the crimes the Governor and Merle had done against me. "The reason Todd wanted you to leave."

_We gotta just keep carrying the fire._

Todd had ignited a reason for me to live, insisting I take the reigns of my own survival and purpose in this new world I had become so lost in. And when the evils and corruption began to leak into Woodbury, he had tried to keep the goodness alight inside his friends. Little did he know, it would extinguish him. He had never told me outright, but I had been convinced Todd would rather me escape with my humanity before being pulled down with the rest of them. Or at least that's what I told myself to justify abandoning Woodbury.

"Yes," I sighed and turned my palm up to return the man's grasp. "I remember."

Releasing me instead, Michael sat up and smiled warmly down to me. "Then you know you can't stay here anymore."

Extending his hand this time to pull me up instead, I sighed and nodded, my mind still wracking itself to try comprehending this all. For only having known this man for about half a year or so, I trusted him unconditionally and felt no fear, only comfort as I grasped for his hand to let him pull me up.

But the second I was on my feet, at first, it was a gradual weight that pulled uncomfortably at my nerves that began to turn into an overwhelming yank back down into my core. As if experiencing the hot scalding all over again, my shoulder throbbed down the rest of my arm and side, causing me to groan and toss. I blinked around the room, the green walls were now beige, children paintings tacked up and a shelf with crayons and markers strewn around. When I looked around the room, I glimpsed blood splashed across the floor and bullet shells scattered before my head whirled, I had to steady myself and take a moment to focus my consciousness. Now this was a sight more believable.

I was alone still; if I didn't see the bootprints smudged into my blood and my half-empty bag beside me, I could have dreamed the strangers who had held me at gunpoint earlier. Remaining silent, I listened to my surroundings, but couldn't hear anything other than my labored breathing. I rested my head back against the mirror I was still slumped against and sighed in quiet relief.

Yet it was short-lived as I dreaded how I'd carry on from this point. Judging by the dim light protruding through the curtains of the room's window, it was either the end of the day or very early morning. Too hurt to really dwell on what time of the day it was, I groggily reached down to brush a hand across my abdomen. It felt like a reflex now, to reach down and touch my protruding belly, assuring myself it was still a present weight inside me even if I had yet to feel it move. _This poor thing,_ I sighed to myself. I was a poor home for such a fragile existence. But I had to hand it to this little fire; if I hadn't lost it from _this, _it sure was a strong entity. _Just like its daddy._

Now its mother had to man up for a change. So I grit my teeth and forced myself to sit up, hearing myself grunt and groan rather unattractively but couldn't give two shits as I tried to steady myself on my good arm that shook like a newborn bird's wings. Struggling to scoot back and lean up on the cracked mirror, I panted from just that effort alone. I was incredibly lost at how I'd even get to my feet. Glancing around, there was a small bookshelf not far against the wall from me weighed down with plenty enough books. I groaned as I made to crawl closer, curling my throbbing arm close to me as I used the other to crawl and heave my body across the wood floor. I didn't care that I was getting more blood on my shirt and smudging it across the floor as I drug my way up. With a shaking hand, I reached up and gripped a hold of the wooden shelf, grasping it tight under my fingers before I braced myself to pull the rest of my body up. Whining under my heavy, dead-weight, I tried awakening my legs to help push the rest of myself up yet they seemed just as unstabe as I attempted to steady myself before toppling back down. Draping myself over the bookshelf, I braced my weight across the top shelf that reached up to my waist so I could rest a moment and breathe through my utter exhaustion.

With my face turned and my cheek lying against the wood shelf, I stared out to the door and despaired at how I'd walk out of this. _Where would I even go?_

But very similarly to the dead that mindlessly walked the earth, I heaved myself back up and stumbled in a zombified state towards the doorway, but not before taking my bag and M16 by its handles to drag with me to the door frame while my feet fumbled beneath me. I braced against the wood frame to take it slow and try to gather a few more morsels of energy before I could to continue. Keeping my arm outstretched to help steady me against the wall like a blind man feeling his way, I slowly willed my footsteps through the hall the way I remembered coming in. My hands brushed passed the hall, uncaring that I was leaving behind red trail marks across the walls while using them to support myself. When I was able to drag myself towards the back where I'd originally broke in, I took a moment to rest my forehead against the end of the hallway and huffed a few breaths to prepare myself to make it to the backdoor.

Gathering up the strength, I pushed off the wall to hurry and stumble for the door only a few feet aways. My legs shook with the effort of supporting my whole body by themselves and keeping a hold of my gear until I reached the backdoor to collapse against and took more shuddering heaves to collect myself. I trembled with the tremendous exertion, dropping the bag to swipe a hand across my sweat-streaked brow, gulping through my pain as I reached for the knob. Checking and seeing the door was locked despite me having picked it earlier. Hm. Folks must've locked it on their way out. I couldn't help but feel a little appreciative until I brushed the thought away to refocus, unlocking it yet again before I turned it completely. Gripping my sickle tighter in my grasp, I counted backwards before I pushed my weight up against the door to open in a low creak.

Looking around, terrified to be caught by any Biters in such a feeble state, but I didn't see any wandering nearby or hear any of their familiar shambles. Taking a hold on my bag again, I pulled it with me like a wounded snake drags its slow length along and almost tripping over my feet on the steps with what felt like newborn giraffe legs. I reflexively stretched my arm out to help balance myself upright, even without anything around to support myself against while hurrying to kick through the scattered childrens toys. I tangled my fingers through the monkey bar-dome as I passed until I was able to collapse against the chainlink backyard fence. My hands gripped into the overgrown plants, clutching the shrubbery to keep myself upright while I scaled the fence to open the gate outside. Opening the latch, I pulled open the fence gate and proceeded to slowly hobble my way out towards the Dodge still parked outside.

Thankfully, I hadn't parked the car too far away from the gate entrance and was able to hunch over the hood of the car before my legs buckled on themselves from how light-headed I was soon becoming. I felt like I was practically sliding my body across the car as I extended to find the drivers side door. Pulling it open with my good arm, I hardly waited for it to swing completely open before I flopped down on the seat. Leaning my head back, I groaned and squeezed my eyes closed to try and steady my whirling head and ease the rollercoaster ride it was on. When my brain felt it wasn't being yanked too hard from my skull, I slowly was brought back to the present and found myself heaving and hanging half out of the car with the door still open. With the little strength I possessed, I reached open and pulled the handle closed with my fingertips, hardly closing it but that didn't stop me from instinctively pushing the car door lock down. My boots stretched and splayed out under the gas and break pedals as I sunk in my seat, too exhausted to actually recline the seat back

My arm reached up for the wheel, but my head slumped back as I huffed a heavy sigh at remembering the way I had even driven here. _Fuck._ There was no way I could even fathom piecing my head together enough to hotwire the car back on, let alone crouch down under the steering wheel to reach the wiring. Without the adrenaline goading me on, my body felt impossibly heavy in the drivers seat.

After everything I'd put myself through; leaving the walls of Woodbury, abandoning my friends, surviving in solitude- it was all for_ naught_. Unlike the waterfall, I felt my chest shudder and a sob escape me at the thought of this all ending here. If anyone found me, I'd be a bled-out corpse locked in this bloodied vehicle. I'd be turned, since there was no one to administer a final deliverance- but what broke my heart the most was the life inside of me that I would fail. I felt the wet drips of tears rolling down my face and gulped back another sob as my bloodied, trembling hand came to rest over the four, almost five month protrusion against my naval. I was alone, like the storm-tossed ship are the hurricane.

"I'm sorry Todd," I whispered between the quiet sobs I was no longer strong enough to contain. "I-I wasn't _strong_- I wasn't _meant_-"

My ribs wracked with my sobs as I finally let myself unravel. This facade I had tried so desperately to keep up cracked like the mirror I'd kept my body pressed against; the weight of it all finally caved me in and broke my resolve into fragile miniscule shards. I let Todd slip between my grasp when I let him leave with Merle on that last supply run...and I had let failed Penny, unable to save her, and now this life that hadn't even had a fair shot, even before it left my womb.

I never wished more I could have died the day Merle showed back up through the walls alone.

* * *

If days passed, I was hardly conscious long enough to count just how many. I drifted back and forth between Michael's apartment and the drivers seat of the battered up Dodge. When my eyes were too heavy to keep open anymore, I wandered in and out of rooms searching for Michael, who never reappeared again no matter how many times I called out for him. I woke up again in darkness, everything still the way it was and my bag still resting on the passengers seat, unzipped but all its content still peeking out and looked accounted for inside. Making to sit up, the second my shoulder jostled, I remembered the familiar sharp pain shoot through my arm and paused to get used to the raw stretch of my shoulder.

Gritting my teeth, I shakily sat up to rest my back flat up against the seat. Glancing down to look at my wound, I grimaced at seeing my bandaged up, blistered laceration. It was hard to believe I had to mutilate myself for a chance to heal. And now healing would be the trickiest part. I still felt much too tired to poke and prod around to see the full extent of damage, but with what I could remember it looked like under the girl's wrap job, a growth of fear developed deep within the pit of my stomach. Underneath the layer of burnt flesh, I still had to worry about the extent of the blunt force trauma; I definitely had extensive soft tissue damage and could possibly have nerve or even bone damage. Looking to Todd's sickle I'd thrown beside my bag and rifle in the darkness, a terrible realization rippled through me. There would be no way I could swing the curved blade around with my wounded arm in such a condition. And especially not through skull and brain matter, or the vertebrae of a Biter's neck. Unfortunately enough, I wasn't left-handed either. It seemed, instead of being the hand I favored for writing, it had become my drawing arm with my bow and now the hand that sliced with Todd's sickle. If I hadn't received severe enough nerve damage, I still would be looking at quite some time I would need to hold off on using my right arm.

_How was I going to go about adapting to _this_?_ I thought mournfully. Like a stone, I felt my spirit begin to sink.

Merle had managed to survive with his whole right hand amputated- but he had _us_, a _group,_ watching his back in the few weak months of recovery he endured through. Safety in numbers had been efficient enough back then and allowed him the time to adapt to becoming completely dependent on his left hand. Merle was a survivor; a man born to adapt in the darkest and dankest of shitholes, so it hadn't taken the man long at all to adjust and in no time I watched him _thrive _with the new addition of his bayonet we helped him replace his absent hand. But living in solitude, in this new world, there was no allowed time between me and the next hungry corpse coming my way. I felt like no more than a straw on the torrent of this world's will, with only myself to rely holding on against its thrashing malice.

_Just have to handle what I can at a time_, I heaved to myself, closing my eyes to gather a moment to collect my despair to try clearing my head. When I fluttered my lashed back open, I turned to my bag, groaning at trying to lift my arm; I couldn't even begin to imagine trying to raise it above my shoulders. I twisted so my other arm could reach over to help fish through the miscellaneous baby supplies and provisions to find an already half-drunk water bottle I had stashed inside. Looking back down at the wrapping over my arm, I decided the bandages had been on long enough and would have to change them to keep them from crusting onto the burn. Rather than go through the trouble of unraveling them, I grabbed my small spare knife I'd slipped inside my pants pocket, fumbling with my left hand a bit, but sliced the bandages open. Even though the girl Maggie, had wrapped my shoulder up loose enough, the gauze still deflated and stuck against the raw flesh underneath. I had to slowly peel back the layers, causing some parts of the wound to reopen and dribble out fresh blood. Hissing as I was able to unstick the last of the wrap, I let them fall somewhere between the middle console of the car but was already forgotten about and hurried to take a small sip from the plastic 6oz, savoring the liquid in my dry mouth. _What I wouldn't give for it to be alcohol_. I braced myself, then tipped the lid over the charred, inflamed contusion. My body writhed and I gasped through a few whimpers as I poured the lukewarm water over my burn in a trembling dribble. I could have crushed the thin plastic in my hand from the pain but I tried to remain mindful to spare the little remaining water so I weakly screwed the cap back on and let it fall with the rest of my gear.

Slacking my head back against the head rest of the seat before I realized I was fading back out, but it was too late by the time I tried scrambling to grasp onto consciousness. Before I could re-bandage my shoulder, I found myself slipping back into a fog to wander the rooms of Michael's apartment again. By the time I reawakened, the sun was beaming in early through the east, bright arrow-like rays shining in through the rolled up car window, but despite the sunlight my consciousness was only fleeting before I slipped back under the black waves of sleep. When I awoke next, it appeared to be dusk outside, the glow already gone on the clouds at the close of day and the sky dappled with a soft amethyst mist over dusk's orange hue. With the same aching pain I was becoming familiar with, I felt utterly weak and could barely lift my arm to reach to grasp the handle of Todd's sickle for reassurance. When I turned my head, if my body didn't feel so heavy, I would have jumped at the sight of a Biter pawing against the car window I'd been slumped against. I was revolted to look down to see the rotting corpse on his knees, licking fervently at my blood sticking to the car door on the outside as the dead man's hands slapped against the glass for its donor.

"I ever get a fucken break around here," I groaned as I shifted to try and sit back up. But at my movement, this seemed to antagonize the starved Biter, growling more manically as it began trying to claw its way against the car door and to its feet. As it rose, I disgustingly took in this reanimated corpse staring straight at me with its dead, white eyes and only the glass of the window between us. Unfortunately for this man, it seemed he'd had large portions of his arm bitten off by the looks of the jagged teeth marks all up his forearm. His flesh on his arm was almost completely rotten, practically black and purple all the way up past his elbow.

I had little strength to pick up Todd's sickle I had clutched to the right of me, but I sucked my lip between my teeth and instead goaded up the will in my left hand. Thankfully, this car's windows weren't automatic, so I reached down and slowly rolled down the window until about an inch was cracked open. This drove the Biter wild as it snapped and growled into the open sliver to try any ways possible to get to my living flesh on the other side. Grabbing for my knife in my lap, I fisted my hand over the handle, wrapping tight around the blade even if the angle of my aim was awkward in my odd hand while I tried to control my shakes at the same time. When I finally brought the little knife up towards the jaws of the wailing Biter, I swung my fist out to stab the blade repeatedly through the crack and into its tongue, mouth, teeth and anything else I could reach, uncaring if I was practically slamming my fist into the car door with every stab until it slopped against the window, gurgling its last growls before sliding down the door, smearing his decayed, black blood across the glass. I hadn't been aware I'd been yelling until there was nothing left to stab and I was out of breath, panting as my remaining energy slunk away from me again. My hand fell back into my lap, heavy as I tried to fight against more darkness. _But I wasn't strong enough._

* * *

The next time I came too, I could barely raise my head as every movement felt labored and sluggish, my limbs an extra ten pounds to lift. For a moment, I was startled to not find myself in bed in the apartment I shared with Todd at Woodbury. But when I looked down at my shoulder still gaped wide open, I was reminded of my predicament as my brain hurried to catch up. Brian or Merle weren't a few doors down, and Penny wouldn't be waiting downstairs having breakfast with Philip before the start of the day. Much too fatigued to do much of anything, I could all but succumb to the tears dribbling down my face at the cold remembrance of my solitude, like a caged creature I had become trapped in exhaustion inside this vehicle. What I wouldn't give to at least be back in my tree at least, hidden from the world's exposure above the branches.

Yet as I stared out the window and into the daylight, I realized the roar that must have awoken me was much too loud to be a hymn inside my head. My head rolled against my shoulder to get a look outside the glass beside me. I gasped at more unpleasant company, this time there were two banging outside the window leering savagely in at me as their fingers tried slipping through the window crack.

When I begun to realize I couldn't hear the loud roar any longer, there was a loud smack against the window. At first I was horrified the Biter was trying to smash its way through when ones head bashed against the glass. But I watched its monstrously desperate expression deflate, like someone had pulled the plug on its reanimation before slumping down with the other corpse I'd stabbed, its companion Biter slipping down the door to join them a second later.

It all happened so fast, my heart felt like it was ripped straight from my chest by an ice-cold wind when a figure stepped in the way of the sun beaming in through the window. There was a loud scrape and to my horror, the lock on the door pooped up and abruptly swung wide open. Splashed with ice-cold panic, my body thrashed in its seat at the realization of an intruder despite the searing of my shoulder. Animalistic fear numbed my pain enough to grasp for the sickle I'd still been holding onto in my sleep to lash out at whatever had gotten inside but before I could swing up my weapon, both my wrists were snatched and held still down by my sides, almost yanking my shoulder and causing me to yelp.

"Hey, hey-" I writhed under whoever had pinned me, a rasp that could be mistaken to quiet a frightened stallion cornered in its stall. I cried out tearfully, but it wasn't until the person restraining me blocked the daylight from outside again and silenced me. "Ey- e_asy!_"

Taking in the face of the stranger, I realized he was in fact familiar. I recognized the manageable mop of sandy-brown hair falling over bent brows, like cliffs furrowing over cobalt eyes with a face writhen like a rain-washed crag. I saw something move behind him, and as I squinted against the blinding sunlight I glimpsed it was a person with their back turned, a gun poised to fire in their arms. The man didn't seem concerned by the other living-being as he released my hands after I'd settled down, prying both blades from my grasp without more than a pathetic struggle from my behalf, reaching over to flick up the passenger door's lock beside and behind me before retracting back out of both our personal spaces. For a moment I was completely dumbfounded by what he could be doing here after his last departure, and it wasn't until it comprehended with me the other person must be another group member of his did I remember our deal. _Our deal._ It felt like my fright shriveled within my chest, instead turning into an dead-weight of loathing that hallowed me out. My eyes narrowed at my utter fucking stupidity.

Before I could retort, I was startled at barely noticing the second stranger had quietly made their way around to open the other unlocked door. They didn't waste a moment pushing my equipment to the floor to make room to slide in and quickly shut the door behind them. I lunged back against the seat but was just as hastily held back at the sight of a crossbow and it's loaded bolt practically up against my cheek in my peripheral.

"Make one move," he threatened very quietly, his glare penetrating as he locked in for any abrupt stunt from my part. "She don't mean harm."

The person who had been covering his back was staring wide eyed, but stoically quiet as they watched across from me. Their short, silver-like salt and pepper hair had me mistake them for a guy for a moment, maybe even a boy at how slight their frame looking outlined by the sunlight. But when I focused a bit longer, their face was much too soft to be a man's but much to creased to be a boys. I watched contemptuously as the woman nudged my rifle that she had deposited on the floor closer behind her feet carefully. Leaving me truly weaponless. I gaped as he flicked my lock back down before closing the door in my face, quickly finding myself truly surrounded now when he slid in behind me. I only had to turn my head a few notches before I could already see he had his crossbow trained on the back of my head behind my seat after shutting his door behind him.

"The _hell_ is this?" I breathed in bitter fury. These people were complete strangers to me, but at the remembrance of the formula and baby clothes I had exchanged, I felt utterly betrayed. And that burned me more horridly than my shoulder ever could.

"What's it look like," a gruff murmur came from behind my seat.

"This wasn't the deal," I coldly grit through my teeth between pain and resentment. So hurt, I couldn't stand to look back and could only stare straight ahead, practically seething in my seat bearing the consequences of my stupidity in cold stoic.

"Yeah well this wasn' exactly my plan neither," he huffed.

"Maggie told us what you did." The woman's voice suddenly interjected. It was so soft beside me it almost startled me. She sounded kind; the yin to her group member's yang. It was so delicate, I wanted to snarl back at such deceitfulness. I had already been foolish enough to have thought the girl Maggie had been kind.

"It was supposed to be an exchange for you people to leave me alone." I felt a bit harsh with my clipped tone against her soft, melodic one, but I was much too anxious by their intentions to dwell on courtesy. She didn't seem too phased by this however as she continued to sit rather calmly beside me.

"She also mentioned what condition you're in."

I looked back into this woman's eyes; her gaze glimmered over at me, almost star-like with an undefined sadness in her pale face. I could only fidget uncomfortably, trapped against the locked door. "You're saints now are you?" I mumbled indignantly.

Rather than offend, a wane smile slid across her face, warming like a pale wintry sunshine before she briefly glanced back at her protector in the backseat. Returning her gaze, she shook her head.

"No," she said. "Just a family."

I couldn't help but laugh. It was lusterless and cynical sounding, and I wasn't sure if I had either become bold or mad but tears were brimming my eyes. "Hmph, _family_," I huffed under my breath like a joke between my teeth. A heavy swell rippled from the back of my throat at such a word."Some family you lot got."

I remembered when I had a family too once. Before the apocalypse and after. Or so I _thought_ I did. Now they were all either dead or wanted _me_ dead. I always had a stigma for fucked up families.

"Mighty big talk comin' from you." I glanced over at the indignant mock. "Three days in the same place. Ain't got too many friends lookin' for you now do ya'?"

My mouth was already gaping to snap back before his words really sunk in. Had it really been three days? I tried not to let my surprise mar my face too obviously, but I felt if I spoke my voice would give me away. But before I could come up with what to respond back with, the woman beside me interrupted.

"We just thought," she started hesitantly for a moment. "If your group hadn't come for you yet, we could extend the courtesy you showed us."

My eyebrows furrowed. "What, to help you sleep better at night?"

I knew it was cruel, and this woman didn't deserve my attitude. But with how exasperated I was with my situation, the bad hand I seemed to continuously be dealt left no room but bitterness to hide all my terrible sorrows. The woman beside me seemed taken aback for a moment before her small lips frowned, pronouncing the small wrinkle lines in her face and I could have sworn the man practically _growled_ behind me.

"You all got a newborn to look after," I said, rolling my head to turn away and look out the window, glancing around to see if there were anymore attracted Biters around to avoid the woman's stare. "I guess you wouldn't be getting much sleep anyways I expect."

"From what Maggie tells us, you've got your own to look after as well."

My gaze wandered down to my lap for a long moment, drifting sadly to my bump I was almost scared would disappear. I felt horrible at how neglected this baby must be without food and hardly any water for three days. It was a wonder how I hadn't lost it. There wasn't really a point to lie about it at this point; with Todd's jacket forgotten back inside the daycare, I'm sure my face was much too gaunt and my belly much too swollen against my shirt to deny.

"We have a doctor- sort of speak," she continued. "He told us a few things to help with your shoulder. He helped one of our group during her pregnancy-"

"You've done enough," I cut in curtly. "Listen," I tried a to reason behind the disgruntled mood my wound was influencing. "As kind as I might want to believe your intentions may be- you can understand why I can't afford to take chances. Just leave me the fuck alone alright?"

"Sure don't got much've a chance laid up in here."

Pricked by this asshole's remarks for the last time, I reared around angrily, uncaring that he held his crossbow alert in my face. "Yeah well what do you care?" I meant to snap back with venom, but the thick dam in my throat was working too hard to contain tears and it sounded pathetic out of my mouth.

For a man who trained his gaze almost intensely as his weapon, he was quiet and his eyes shifted to the other woman in the front seat for a long moment, almost as if this was an uncomfortable question. When his eyes fixed back on me, he met my own stare as he said, "I don't."

All I could do was stare for a long moment. Before I had the chance to stiffle my face, the corner of my lip twitched as I felt myself break out into a grin like I was either going mad or about to stroke. _Those were the most believable words I'd heard all conversation. _And for some reason, I thought that was really fucking hilarious.

The two companions exchanged another long, uneasy stare. "They do," he replied, jutting his chin back up to the front where the woman was watching our exchange silently.

I could only halfheartedly keep my lips from trembling too fiercely as I offered her a small, weary smile before I leaned my head back against the seat, exhausted trying to blink back the rapidly building liquid clotting my lashes. I felt too weak to do nothing but surrender and had to restrain laughing anymore at how ironic this gesture seemed. As if kindness was being force-fed to me. If it was to be these people to strip what little supplies I had left from me, so be it. I just hoped they'd pull their triggers on me before they departed.

"The highway was too crowded for us to get here by a vehicle," she tried. "We had to take Daryl's bike here so our doctor couldn't make it out. He gave us antiseptic and more bandages you should use."

I felt my face frown bemusedly over to her; I hadn't been blocked too badly to travel south on the highway here, I noted they must be coming from further north. And at the mention of a bike explained the loud high-pitched rumbling I'd been hearing.

"Why you?" I couldn't help but interrupt. "You have medical experience?"

"No," she replied after a moment. "You could say experience is the key word these days."

_ Isn't that the truth_, I thought, especially under my own predicament. My existence felt nothing but trial and errors.

"Maggie also mentioned you telling her you were an EMT," she went on. "I'm sure the world's greatest surgeon would find himself hard pressed to operate on himself."

"It's not like this needs surgery," I sighed heavily, not so much at this group but my the impending days to come that would be my true struggle. "If infection doesn't take, it's just something I'll have to let heal on its own."

"Clean it yet?" she asked, unaffected by my pessimism. I shook my head, fidgeting as I nervously peeked back to keep an eye on _Daryl_, the woman called him, who was remaining curiously quiet. only observing while continuing to cover his partner from the backseat. Much like every time I had run into this guy. There was another silent moment between us that was uncomfortable in the presence of these strangers. It wasn't broken until the woman took the initiative to reach down and begin unzipping her bag from her lap. I watched her pull out a pair of hand towels and a couple bottles of water I eyed skeptically. Before she went to unscrew the cap off one of the bottles, she stopped to measure my reaction before proceeding. Yet I couldn't help but feel baffled when my paranoia tried to run away with me. If they intended to dispense of me, why would they take the trouble to clean and dress my wound? Either way, I could only relented in such a predicament and nodded slowly for her to continue, so nervous I felt myself shiver a little. She didn't waste another moment proceeding to tilt the bottle down, only slightly enough to trickle out a small, controlled stream to soak a part of a towel. When it was efficiently wet, she was careful to lean cautious over to peer at the exposed burn over my shoulder. My breath hitched when she experimented with a delicate dab first, allowing me to become accustomed to the coolness against the raw wound before proceeding. Besides our breathing, no other conversation carried out as she continued to pat at the burn, hurting some places more than others when I felt her trying to wipe away crusted blood that had already dried. I was at least grateful I didn't have to urge her to be gentle.

"Someone did this to you?" she asked.

"Yeah," I grumbled, thinking back to the dead mother and fawn. "Some psycho, would've axed me in the face for a damn deer-" I winced as she brushed over a particularly caked over spot of flesh.

When I felt her administrations take a longer pause, I looked up to see her frozen over my wound, her gaze turned to meet the man, Daryl's own stare that he returned just as strangely. Something about what I said seeped disturbed looks across their faces. I figured they must just be disgusted as I was about the heartless rogue's scavenging any means necessary, but before I could ask what was wrong, she just continued to wipe clean my wound. She was generous enough to wipe away the blood caked around my clavicle and had even attempted to wash away some of the dried trails that had leaked down my arm all the way from the wound atop my shoulder.

"Did he see that you were...?" I flinched at her next dab, not from the pressure but the sting of her inquiry. _Yes, someone tried to murder me even knowing my condition. _Did she want me to divulge how no one gave a shit about me? I just nodded, my mouth too dry to formulate the words.

"What happened to him?" she asked. I was about to shrug but remembered that might not be the best idea.

"Dunno. Biters must've heard us, he ran off when a herd came through." There wasn't much else to say, so we remained quiet again. I at least appreciated no one voice how hopeless I was out here.

"Get'a look at 'em?" I could see I had pricked even the bowman's interest and was surprised to see his arm had lowered enough to lean his elbow on his side door, his weapon's trigger still under his finger but propped up against the window. It was still aimed, but much more relaxed. _I'm sure I didn't come off as much of a threat anymore._

Thinking back to the man, I did remember how strange his penitentiary-like outfit was. "I did," I started slowly, still in a deep troubling thought, "Bald black guy, had this prison-looking getup on. Didn't ask too politely about where my group was."

My answer seemed descriptive enough and the man only exchanged another long glance between the woman in the front seat with me. He nodded and didn't press for anymore questions as his friend finished cleaning what she could from my shoulder before she went riffling through her bag some more. I arched a brow at the tube she finally brandished out from her bag, recognizing the A&D.

"I have my own," I started. I didn't want to owe anyone anything. Merle and Philip taught me as much.

"Maggie said you didn't have much left," she said, a small smile giving away that she had anticipated my misgivings. "You'll need more than a few treatments worth."

The woman in the passenger seat observed me with what felt like a sad stare, like she was quietly urging me to take the antiseptic ointment. When I shifted my arm, I hissed between my teeth at its aching pull, reminding me how bone-tired I was to try applying the gel myself. The truth of her words were what convinced me to let myself ease back into the seat to allow her to continue.

"I have q-tip swabs in my bag," I relented.

The silver-haired woman nodded, leaning down to push aside her backpack to rift through my already open one. I felt uneasy, much like I had with Maggie when she had went through my things, but allowed her to move my personal affects around until she pulled out the first-aid kit I'd salvaged from inside the house I was parked behind. Popping open the plastic case, she carefully sifted through what supplies were left and retrieved the small case of q-tips that were unused. She uncapped the antiseptic tube and squirted out a gob of gel across the cotton-tip like one would apply their toothpaste.

"Dab it first," I whispered as I noticed her pause to hovered over the open wound. "Then roll it."

She was gentle about spreading the first glob of ointment, distributing the gel without dragging over my tender flesh too harshly as she rolled the q-tip over the wound. But no matter how gingerly she treated my shoulder, I still had to gnaw at my lip to keep from groaning like too big of a bitch.

"How far along are you?" she asked not looking up from her work, surprising me at her sudden forwardness. Eying her over, she must at least be in her late-forties or early-fifties; it wasn't unlikely for a woman her age to have bared her own pregnancies and had her own children. It wasn't until she looked up at last from her work; the gleam in her bright-blues told me she knew the weight of responsibility I carried.

"Four months, give or take." I mumbled, shifting my gaze back down to watch her switch sides on the q-tip and squeeze on more antiseptic.

"Just past the first trimester," she observed softly. "You'll never stop feeling sensitive, but you've made it through the sick months."

Another small smile crept up on her, emphasizing her laugh-lines that had softly begun to indent with age. My gaze flickered back uncomfortably to see her friend in the backseat behind her, his eyes shifted downward as if he was just as uncomfortable with this conversation.

"I carried twice myself," she informed, rolling the goed-tip of the cotton swab from the top of my shoulder to spread a little further where the flame had licked. "Sick as a dog for both."

Pausing in her work, I caught her looking down at my rounding tummy I was growing increasingly self-conscious about. She offered a sad little smile when she looked back up to return my stare. "My first, I didn't carry nearly as long as you," she told me, continuing to gob up my shoulder. "I miscarried before I even really told anyone."

I watched her gaze flick back to her friend sitting behind her who's whole posture had tensed, unable to miss the way his jaw was twitching as he gnawed his top lip. This was definitely a defining subject and I felt I was intruding on such an intimate conversation.

"When I had my little girl, I was miserable," she went on, almost thoughtful in her own recollections. "My second was much later in my life. And it was real hard on me, on my body."

She worked as she talked, never pausing between applying the ointment and switching clean q-tips, but she was careful and seemed efficient enough. She reached back into her bag and brandished a roll of gauze, already beginning to unravel it around her hand as she seemed to be measuring how to position it to wrap around my sticky shoulder. I wasn't sure what the purpose was, indulging me with the details of her life, but I suspected she was trying to keep my mind elsewhere than the hideous burn. I had yet to openly talk about my pregnancy, so I couldn't help but listen to this mother's every word as she talked about her own. It wasn't like I had ever had a discussion with my own about motherhood; having experienced my little sisters own horrendous birth, I was too afraid to ask about how she had been with Nat and I. My grandmother had never talked too fondly about that subject either.

"I'm sorry," were the first words that tumbled from my lips in a sigh. I felt awfully guilty. People like my mother, abusing and giving less than two shits about what she'd been blessed with while women like the one next to me, actually desired and ached for what others obtained so carelessly. People like me, who despaired rather than rejoiced. It still terrified me everyday that my numbness towards this little fire inside me would never fade and I would forever remain impassive, only taking care of myself as a guilty obligation.

But she didn't know me. She didn't know what a monster I was, of what a hateful person I had become, so she just nodded like I was empathizing. It didn't take her too much longer to wrap up my shoulder, considerably neater than the other girl Maggie but appreciated just as skeptically. I eyed the small knife she brandished from her belt very carefully, feeling my lips tighten even as she only used to it split the gauze from the roll to tuck and tie into the underlying layers. I eased when she slipped her knife back away and watched her slip the rest of the roll into my open bag down at her feet, then reach to dig into her own until she fished out what looked to be a rattling prescription bottle.

"Prenatal vitamins," she explained, her face somber as she stuffed them in my bag as well. _They wouldn't be needing those anymore. _Digging back again through her pack, my eyes widened at seeing her slide a few cans and a pack of chips in mine."You should be gaining more. I'm surprised your hair hasn't fallen out by the state of you."

"I'll get on that," I mumbled, unable to restrain my sarcasm but she paid it no mind as she tossed in the A&D tube as well.

"What about your group?" The question was back up in the air and I felt myself guard back into myself, already thinking of what I should say.

"I dunno," I sighed under my breath, shifting my gaze carefully to avoid their stares. "Guess I'll have to wait it out till they find me."

It was then I used the persistent question I'd been mulling over to redirect this conversation. "What about yours?" I asked. The two practically froze in their seats. "Everyone else from this _family _of yours comfortable with you just giving away supplies?"

I looked expectantly to the man behind me, already seeing his eyes narrow and his face draw in a sneer. But the woman was kind enough to deflect anymore rude comments.

"Some don't need to know," she sighed. I wondered how many others of her group were as kind as her. Obviously Darly was firsthand proof about some others having their own misgivings- and I could understand that.

"Can't you drive back?" The woman asked. I couldn't help but silently touche her own diversion.

"Had to hotwire this," I replied. "Was meaning to try, but I can't imagine driving at this point."

She nodded, her eyes thoughtful while I watched them roam over her work on my shoulder before she bent down to zip her bag back up. Her brows were furrowing in contemplation, like her thoughts were troubled. I could only imagine what kind of look I'd give someone if I ran across them in such a state. They'd seem like goners to me.

"Shoulda' stayed inside," another rasp came from behind. "Windows ain't nearly tinted enough, can see right in."

It wasn't like I didn't know this, but I refrained from saying so and just acknowledged him with a small nod. "Well hopefully I won't be staying here too much longer," was all I could say. _Hopefully._

"Should get goin'," he mumbled, now that everything was situated and put away. He seemed a little less aggressive about their departure than last time, but just as uneasy as he continued to scan outside the car window for any approaching threats. The woman nodded her agreement, a bit tentatively but followed his lead without any disagreement. Looking back, I saw the guy in the backseat reaching for the door handle, bracing himself to spring out from the back where he seemed confined.

"Tell your friend thanks for the shout-out," I said, catching them before they got out. I glanced back at Daryl and nodded. "I'm sure it took something to convince you back." Then I added, in all seriousness. "But you shouldn't do it again."

If this woman was truly without an agenda to come all this way out to help a complete stranger, she was too genuine to trust with this world's intentions. She seemed almost disappointed at such a response, but I turned to the ever silent observer in the back, knowing he understood.

"Its too dangerous to have a conscience in this world anymore." I felt a chill go up my spine. The words just came out and it rattled me to remember they once belonged to Philip. But this woman's statue-like guardian only stared back in silence, his eyes squinting over at me. I felt hesitant he might take it as a threat and I could tell it was something he was definitely mulling over, but if he thought it was too sketchy, he didn't respond as threatening as I'd seen him before. The two seemed to distinguish what I said without words needing to exchanged to acknowledge they _knew._ Daryl relented to crack open the door to step out but I hurried to stop the woman before she followed.

"Hey..." I couldn't my voice from faltering at such a bold thoughts circulating about our conversation. I would never see this woman again anyways.

"Carol." I was startled out of my thoughts and probably gawked like a confused fool for a moment. She just smiled and tried again, "My name's Carol." I nodded slowly, thinking how fitting her name was and tried to stretch my lips up at her gesture.

"Can I ask you..." I began in almost the barest of a whisper. "When you lost your baby...did it feel _real_ to you?" Carol stopped and stared long at me. I felt myself blanch and felt about to babble my apologies at such a question.

"I mean, since you lost it so soon," I tried to clarify the scrambled emotions I had only let swirl about in my mind these whole four or so months. "Does it hurt just as much, even though you never knew it?"

Carol's hands slipped from the door handle as she thought to herself for a good long while. Almost so long I felt Daryl shift behind us, looking uncertain to step in and steer the attention from her.

"Yes," she replied softly, with a chill of her cold truth. "It hurt just as much to lose a child after twelve years or a month."

My heart shriveled, like it ached just to think of an aftermath without this fire to keep kindling. I faced a long, dark road, if Todd's baby survived or not from this point on. I didn't know what I could say to something so profoundly sad to hear this woman had lost both children in her lifetime. _No doubt she lost her second to this carnivorous world. _It seemed a little girl's innocence could not endure this new existence.

Daryl slipped quietly out from his seat without a word, we watched him step around the car, his bow raised as he scoped around the perimeter. The woman waited, trusting him take care if there was danger and almost dutifully waited for him to give the all clear. I noted Maggie had acted very similar, comfortable with her safety in his hands. Not long after, there was a low whistle, just sharp enough to get Carol's attention and she opened the car door to follow out. But before she shut the door, leaving me alone again, she leaned down to peek her head through.

"You do know them," she added before her departure. "You know your baby the moment you know it needs you."

My lip twitched upward. "Thanks for caring, Carol," I said, tilting my head to the woman, she eventually pulled away and it felt lonely with the shut of the door behind her.

As I stared down numbly, mulling over Carol's words, I lurched as my door opened. All of a sudden, both my sickle and knife were deposited back on my lap. When I looked up, Daryl was squinting down at me. The way he gnawed down at the inside of his cheeks and the way he fidgeted in his stance over me, I felt there was something he wanted to say. Yet after a long enough moment, he only nodded before closing the door back behind him.

I was left holding my weapons alone, listening to the roar of Daryl's bike fade into the distance.

* * *

_So thank you __so__ much for all your wonderfully inspiring reviews! Yet again, you've all blown me away with such encouraging feedback. Try not to be too hard on me, I know I know, I suck at fast updates. I was working ten hour days at two jobs, so life was pretty hectic to try fitting in writing, so I hope this chapter didn't take too big of an impact. But now that my summer job has ended, hopefully I can get this next chapter up asap, plus I'm already super syched to write it. _

_ So more group interactions like I promised, and I hope this quenched you Daryl lovers, even if he didn't have much dialogue in this chapter. If you're a little iffy on the timeline, I meant this to be after Daryl already found Carol in the tombs, so Rick is still mentally MIA for this story's plot. I know you guys have mentioned you like the present-Olive chapters ore than her past, but I'm really hoping you guys'll get into this next one I've got coming up. _

_ I also suggest a listen to _Fear and Loathing _by Marina and the Diamonds which inspired this chapter. I heard this and totally replayed it over and over while writing this. The lyrics are fucking beautiful and I feel fit perfectly to the theme of this chapter._

_ Love you all and hope to hear what you think of this newest chapter! xoxo_


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